#like. task is easy. brain however? brain did not want to make things easy. brain has made that very hard the last few……. i don’t even know

[buck-yyyy]

guess who just cleaned up a tiny portion of their room. everyone should be so fucking proud of me

[theirlmagicalgirl]

becoming that girl - routines

did you know having routines as been proven to help with anxiety, insomnia and just overall feeling better mentally? what's more it can also make you feel like you've got your life together and help you achieve your goals. think about it, you wake up and have a productive morning routine which makes you feel energized and ready to take on the day, you're going to have a much better day than if you were just bedrotting, right?

your future is found in your daily routine. successful people do daily what others do occasionally

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑ what is a routine?

we've all heard about it, whether its aesthetic tiktoks of influencers showing their morning or mental health advocate telling you to stick to a routine, but what exactly is it?

the definition, according to google is a sequence of actions regularly followed. but in broad, it's actions that you do together and often. so let's say you brush your teeth before bed and then put on your pjs, that's already a routine!

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑ how do you create a routine?

so you want to start having a routine and using it to build long lasting habits? how do you do it?

do it for you ; while it's nice to post about your routine because it makes it look like you've got your life together and might make people envy you - do you actually want to work on those long-lasting habits? think about how it will benefit You, your body, your mind, then start doing it for yourself set intentions ; what are the goals you want to work on? how do you want to feel while doing your routine, or after doing it? will you feel energized and focused or relaxed and mindful? this will help you find which tasks you can put into your routine plans and start working on. keep it realistic ; no, you don't have to wake up at five in the morning, and no you don't have to start your day with a run. this is your routine, you're doing it for yourself and not for anyone else. while you see those influencers having a perfect morning or evening routine, will it work for you? if it wouldn't then just don't do it, easy as that. find tins you want to do ; after all that thinking, you can finally write down the tasks you want to start doing everyday. if they seem achievable to you and they will help you progress towards your goals, then do it! nothing is stopping you apart from your own brain and willpower.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑ morning routines

a morning routine is arguably the most important routine someone can have. it sets a positive tone for the day and can increase productivity, reduce stress, improve focus and promote healthy habits. the most important part of a morning routine is to nourish your body and mind - this will leave you feel energized and overall feeling ready for the day.

in the morning, its important to do things that make you feel good, if you start the day with doin things that make you feel sluggish, you will keep this mindset throughout the day. however, if you start by doin productive things and you feel good and focused, you will most likely carry this energy throughout the day.

your mind is more open in the morning, which lets you be completely mindful - this is why your morning routine should be entirely focused on you - you're taking care of yourself and should be fully present. try to keep the time you spend in your morning routine off your pone as this will lead to a more productive routine.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑ evening routines

while an evening routine might not seem as important and less popular than a morning routine, it still is highly beneficial. it lets your body and mind know that its time to unwind, and lead to a better, more restful sleep.

a morning routine is supposed to make your feel energized and ready for the day and an evening routine is supposed to make you feel relaxed and ready for a good night of sleep. think about it, all the busyness of the day goes away and you start being more focused on yourself - your brain becomes calmer and you get more ready to sleep.

as for a morning routine, you should be fully present in your evening routine - so try to stay off your phone - its a well known fact that blue light can also disturb sleep patterns so for about thirty minutes before bed you should stay off screens and without distractions to fully let your brain slow down.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝๋࣭ ⭑ how do you stick to it

it's all fun and games to have a routine but ultimately it only matters if you stick to it, right? here are a few things you can try to stick to it ;

write it down ; it's been proven that things become more important in your brain when they have been manually written down

keep it visible ; now that you've got your little plan, hang it where you'll see it. keep your morning routine plan next to your bed and your evening routine next to where you keep your pjs for example

group tasks ; if you've got two things to do in the bathroom, do them one after the other - it lowers the chances of you getting too lazy to move places.

prepare yourself ; if you've got anything that you can prepare before in your routine - then do it. if you want to drink water right wen you wake up, place a glass of water next to your bed at night or have your journaling supplies ready so you can do it straight away without having to look for it.

remember you're supposed to feel good ; if you put something in your plan and you see that it doesn't make you feel good or you can't stick to it - just remove it! this is your routine, so if something doesn't work for you, it's not the end of the world and you can just stop it.

i think that's everything about routines! are you going to try and build a lasting routine? if so, what's your plan?

if you like this post please like, reblog or drop me a follow, i'd really appreciate it!

[newkatzkafe2023]

They save a happy wife a happy life, but what they don’t imply is that a happy wife is best for all involved. So what if for Yandere yn. The companions ask wukong to do something (cough heaven or the monk, cough cough) and wukong goes, “ unless my wife gives you the thumbs up! I ain’t doing shit.”

Basically Yandere us is the life manger of our husband after one to many mistakes and this man does not action without the approval of us. I imagine

The monk tries to make wukong do something and it back fires beacuse he didn’t get our approval.

Behind a powerful man is an even more powerful woman

(Lmk Wukong) Yeah, you needed to trained him for centuries to obey you and follow only your directions, especially since the whole Celestial war fiasco and everything else he has done. You trained Wukong into just kicking back and relax and let you do all the thinking for him and take care of everything else. Your method is to coddle and pamper him until he's competing depended on you for everything, making him unable to think for himself at times. There's also the matter of his poor excuse of mental health and being alone, isolated, depressed, and rejected over the centuries so that's makes things more complicated. So really at some point Wukong would go into a downward spiral with out you and especially Mk with the whole harbinger of chaos bullsh*t and the self sacrifice. So heaven really shouldn't be asking anything from him in that state, especially when you declined already🤭. Also Wukong loves bellyrubs give him one on his chubby belly and he'll be your love slave🤤

(MKR Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh yeah that is exactly how he'll function, your disappointed face has always send shivers down his spine and Wukong hates it. Upsetting the monk will always be less terrible then upsetting you, and over time Wukong grew to be more obedient to you. However there are perks to having Wukong only listen to you he will be less likely to destroy things and cause trouble for you guys, but also get tedious when it's the same task like rescuing the monk. Don't even get me started when it comes to the heavens and sometimes the monk threatening or demanding stuff of him, but Wukong wouldn't do sh*t for them because you had already said no. He knows better then to anger and disobey you, but not like he'll listen to them anyway even if you did agree. However he would rather go and piss off the heavens all over again then disappoint you because he doesn't even want to think about what you'll do or take from him🫨.

(HIB Wukong) Man he's been listening to you properly for years ever since the journey to the west, and he better keep it that way especially when you got kids now. What you do is make every single one of them relie solely on you for everything, and to easily play into Wukong's paranoia and over protection because he's terrified of the idea of losing his little family. Whenever Wukong almost causes a scene for a silly reason you would whisper words of reassurance and mildly defuse him, and often tell him to allow you to handle it. Or when you continuously rub his shoulders muscles and back to help him relax and mettle his brain, there are also times where you stuffed him and the child full of food to keep them from going hungry and worrying. You also make examples of what to do and what not to do suitably controlling Luier's decision making, and it's quite easy to cater to silly girl giving her lots of healthy meals and warm bottles of breastmilk....he'll even pigsy looks to you for advice at times and keep him from making an even bigger ass of himself. So whenever the heaven courts get the audacity of asking him for favors, you just give him a thumbs down and he'll actively tell heaven to screw off☺️.

(NR Wukong) You would easily have him wrapped around your finger, he just makes it so easy at best too. It's just so sexy to have a dominant demoness put him on a figurative leash, especially when it's to keep him from running wild. With him you need a reward system like if Wukong has a curfew he needs to follow, then he'll be rewarded with booze. Or if Wukong was extra good for a week, then he gets to be hand fed his very treats by you personally. Then there's spicy rewards for when he finishes an errand or a task for you, and well...you let him take you to pound town for hours on end. Wukong is completely under your thumb and because of this he'll actively spit on heavens face for daring to ask him for any favors, and also because you told him no already🥵.

(Netflix Wukong) He's been loving and obedient to you ever since he popped out of his egg. You welcomed him into your arms when he searched for affection and cuddles, he was just the cutest little cherry you ever seen. Ever since then Wukong always works tooth and nail to impress and make you proud of him, which is why his moves often become your moves also. Heaven would be at there wits end trying to get that little monkey to follow there hypocritical rules and standards, even when he was rejected by his own kind did he not obey anyone but you. You always make sure to give him plenty of praise too, calling him a good monkey, such a handsome monkey, and always saying how cute he is and how much you love him as you smother his face with kisses. At this point Wukong would follow you off a cliff if you tell him too😍

(BMW Wukong) Yeah, that's your marital dynamic. In general, Wukong has pulled waaaaaaayyyyy too much sh*t, to be left unsupervised by anyone. So when Wukong got married to you, you have become his well... a royal advisor, so to speak. You make a focus on making sure he follows your advice and instructions precisely while telling him it's for the sake of your reputations and the status you both want for yourselves. Now you think he would be against being under you care and having you tell him what to do, but he lowkey finds it so arousing to have a powerful monkey woman boss him around. It's gets even sexier because no matter how hard his old master, Erlang, or even all of heaven tried Wukong would do sh*t for any of them unless given permission from you. the thing is.....the Celestial court never got the Memo of how the queens are actually the ones with all the power, and that kings tend to be figureheads for the public and the sooner they accept that the better😈😈😈😈

(Destined one) Well I have always felt that the Destined one was the second most responsible guy on this list, (cough" HIB cough") well as responsible as a demon monkey will allowed himself to be but that's besides the point. In this case, you free-ranged the Destined one, allowing him to think for himself and make decisions on his own. However, when he is unsure or nervous about something well... you trained him to turn to you and only you, for advice or an alternative solution to daily needs or unexpected circumstances. Another thing you do is put the Destined one under the impression that he makes half the decisions in his journey and life. which makes it easier for you to hide the puppet strings he doesn't seem to noticed being tied to him. I wouldn't say you gaslight the Destined one no i wouldn't say that but there's nothing wrong with being independent together and keeping mean celestials from taking advantage of your silent baby😇

(Lotmk Wukong) This boy is practically you love puppet, everyone can practically see the strings. Wukong remains by your side at all times and does the little things you would ask for him. Then gets rewarded with lots of kisses and cuddles from you, and you super rarely ever receives punishment from you. Alot of people would think he can't think for himself, considering he looks to you for permission on the things he wants and needs to do. It definitely makes you seem controlling but he knows what it's for the best and out of your love for him, so whenever the monk or heaven ever tried to demand him of something he looks to you for permission. You would often wave away the monks request and let Wukong help him, however it's a strict no for anything from heaven as you pet Wukong's head with affection😍.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🧵

[zo2mess]

Laundry girl

Summary: Laundromat is usually empty so late at night except for Adrian, until it isn’t. But there is no reason for him to get nervous around his new laundry buddy, right?

Warnings: mentions of violence, mention of death, mention of period blood, foul language and that’s all? If you notice something that might be triggering, just let me know. Also female reader and no use Y/N as far as I remember.

Word count: 3.8K

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: My ongoing brain rot with Vigilante, inspiration from the song Laundry Girl from Ludo (I politely stole a lot from their lyrics) and need to practice my English before test somehow escalated into this. This is a mess, nothing makes sense idk. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to make it public, but hey, bad content is still content right? English is not my first language, so if you see any grammar mistakes or weird words, just ignore them. However every criticism is welcomed and appreciated.

Oh, the sweet contrast of late spring. Days warm enough to let bare skin be caressed by heating sun, yet cold nights leave shivers down the spine, a fleeting reminder that the carelessness of summer is not entirely there yet.

Exactly on one of those nights, Adrian found himself in a 24-hour laundromat down the street from his small apartment. Neon lights from the sign were illuminating dark streets as well as the faint lights from inside.

He didn’t like that smell that lingered in the air. Fragrances from detergents that are far too strong and mix in an unpleasant whiff, plus the disinfection and the smell from forgotten socks that got stuck somewhere between a wall and washing machine. No, thanks. He could buy his own washing machine, which would be much more practical, but why make anything easy when you can make it difficult.

When Adrian entered the familiar environment, he sighed at the strong smell hitting his nose. Temperature in the laundromat was slightly warmer than the one outside, but not enough for him to take off his hoodie. Adrian settled his bag with dirty clothes on a scraped metal table in the middle of the cramped room.

There was one thing he liked about this laundromat, even though it was open almost nonstop, no one was ever there late at night like he was.

Usually.

Sometimes few drunks were sleeping peacefully in the corner, desperately seeking just a tad bit of warmth, but as long they didn’t do anything, Adrian had no reason to pay any attention to them.

Tonight was different, his regular loneliness and peace was disturbed by another person entering the room. However screeching of old doors, quick gust of cold air and heavy tired footsteps did not alert him at all.

"Do you need help with that?" you asked with a soft voice, a smile on your face while you looked at the stranger in front of you expectantly "I don’t want to call myself a professional, but I can pretty much clean every stain. Or at least I haven’t been defeated so far,"

His mind was too focused on a single task before him, getting rid of dried blood that was plastered on his black undershirt. The one he wears under his chest plate, one that was stitched up too many times from all the slashing and tearing.

Will he ever buy a new one? Of course not.

Not until he finds a shirt that looks and feels the same as this one. Adrian cursed the guy that got his suit in such disheveled state. That bastard deserved a bullet to his head even before he managed to get Vigilante’s suit all messy and sticky with blood.

Your question caught him off guard, his hands wincing a little. Green eyes glancing up at you with startled expression. When did you get here? Were you watching him the whole time? Crouched up above his shirt, scrubbing away with bile soap, tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration. You leaned across the table, examining his work. "Ketchup?"

"Blood actually," Why would it be ketchup? He doesn’t even like ketchup. It does not taste like tomatoes at all! Goddamn lying sauce. "I got a really bad nosebleed. I get that a lot, that’s why my clothes are always bloody." No other reason of course.

"If your clothes are always bloody you should have no problem with cleaning them right? But I gotta admit blood is a hell of an enemy when it dries and sits on the fabric for a while. Just put it in cold water to soak off, that should do it."

"Why do you know so much about cleaning blood?" Adrian asked with suspicion in his voice. Eyebrows furrowed under his glasses and his eyes stared at you intently. Paranoia creeping up on him again.

"Well I don’t know if you noticed but I’m a woman. Periods teach you a lot. I’m not some blood-stained killer I swear." You said the last sentence with a wide smile, shaking your head before returning to your own work. Throwing dirty laundry into the washing machine without even glancing back at Adrian. He was standing there with fingers tapping on the metal table, burning a hole in the back of your skull with his stare. Yeah, you better not be. He thought to himself.

He forced a smile and went back to scrubbing, he did not have the time to soak it off, he needed it ready for tomorrow, preferably without blood. You paid him no mind and pushed the button to start the cycle. With a sigh you took out a small book from the laundry basket you brought with you and sat down on a screeching chair nestled between other washing machines. If you have to sit it out here you might as well do something productive.

"Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy," his voice made you flinch and you glanced at him absentmindedly "I love that movie!"

"Book’s even better." You acknowledged his giddiness with simple words. The truth is you enjoyed reading books after you watched movies that were based on them. Sometimes they were better, sometimes worse, but they always expanded the story and the universe.

"Reading is for nerds plus it can’t be that much better." Doubting Thomas, of course. Adrian quickly waved off the idea that books can be better than movies.

"There is extremely many things that did not make it in the movie, not gonna mention directive changes. But go on, live your life without all the great details." You returned to your reading, barely registering quiet mumbling coming from Adrian’s direction.

"My washing machine broke and I don’t have spare money to buy a new one. I’ll be coming here until my next salary" The other option was attempting to fix it yourself, that would be a death sentence for the washing machine and you as well.

"What are you doing here anyway? I come here almost every Saturday and I am alone here." He wouldn't drop it, curiosity gets the better of him most of the time, why would this be any different? It was suspicious that another girl is washing her laundry in the middle of the night.

The fact he was currently getting rid of blood from the undershirt he wears out to kill criminals is an entirely different story.

"But why so late? It’s way past midnight."

"Couldn’t sleep." You just shrugged. You did not care if he believed you or not, it was true. Your new neighbors were blasting music practically all evening, it was better to wait it out elsewhere. "It seems we will be meeting each other more often. I didn’t catch your name."

The more time you spent together in the chilly room, words drowned out by buzzing washing machines, the more you got along. Starting off with awkward small talk, through petty debate whenever books are better than movies, all the way to wishing each other goodnight as well as Adrian wishing you had a monster under your bed and parting ways. Only if he knew monster wasn’t the one creeping up on you in your sleep. Thoughts of tonight busying your mind.  

"It’s Adrian." His voice was hesitant, suspicion rising and falling with each word you said. He’s not sure if you are a poor soul with dirty laundry or a spy hired to watch the infamous Vigilante.

How would you even know his secret identity? He had no idea, but sometimes it is better to account for all possibilities.

You nodded at his answer and told him your name in return. Little something he burned into the back of his mind.

------------

The second time he met you was two weeks from the last encounter, just the way he mentioned previously. This time you were there first, already occupying one machine with white clothes while the other part of your laundry sat in a basket nearby. You quickly shot him a smile and he greeted you in return.

"You’re here early." Adrian commented almost under his breath as he put full duffel bag on the table and began sorting his clothes by colors.

"Yeah well, no reason for it really. Maybe curiosity got the best of me and I got here earlier just to see if you would came like you said you would." It seems that old habits die hard. Unknown to you, Adrian was always on time in his routines. Even if he wanted to do his laundry on a different day or at a different time, his body would urge him to do things in the exact same way.

She’s joking, Adrian, don’t sweat it out. There is no way she could kill anyone. His inner thoughts creep up to him again. From time to time, he would appreciate if his Vigilante mind left Adrian alone. "So uhhh… You don’t like cheesy jokes?" Yeah, great save, do not mention hanging Debbie.

The conversation went on quite smoothly, like good old friends meeting. Usual chatter about their days, unnecessary details of “total baller” breakfast from Adrian’s side, gossip about migraine-inducing coworkers from yours.

Adrian attention was glued to every word you said, piece by piece putting together a bigger picture. He can’t even remember the last time someone actually wanted to talk with him and not just wave him off with dismissive answers.

"- And then she put a fucking poster on our shared fridge. That stupid one with cat on a tree with “Hang in there” under it. And I thought our office could not get any more stereotypical," you were throwing your hands around, visibly stating your annoyance at your coworker Debbie.

"I don’t want to “Hang in there” I would much rather hang myself and I swear to God I will hang her in janitor’s closet if she puts another poster on the fridge or tells me a cheesy joke about how much she hates her husband, it’s not funny"

"I like jokes, just not stupid ones. To be honest I can’t remember the last time someone told me a funny joke. I guess it is a curse of modern times, humor changed." You shrugged your shoulders and walked around the crumpled room, looking around and taking in details you missed on your first visit.

"I could tell you a funny joke. I know plenty of them!" Adrian’s enthusiasm made you stop in your tracks. He’s just standing there, a wide smile forming on his face, fingers fidgeting with hem of dirty shirt that laid in mountain of laundry on the table in front of him.

Even if you told him no, Adrian had decided to recite every joke he knew. Some of them were horrible, some of them were… better. Yet it did not made you laugh.

It was a fun game to pass the time, he told you lousy jokes and after each one he patiently waited for your reaction with puppy eyes.

You, on the other hand, had tried so hard to not even let a corner of your mouth turn upwards. The bigger satisfaction it brought the more he stammered as he tried to remember another joke. Adrian could not let himself be a loser in this situation. He will not give up.

"Knock knock," he started again, determined to win this imaginary joke war.

Not laughing at his jokes should be illegal. And that would make you a criminal. In that case, he would not feel bad if he had to take you out as Vigilante.

And maybe if he got rid of you, he wouldn’t feel that irritating need late at night, body itching to go to the laundromat near his apartment to see if you couldn’t sleep either.

If you’re scrubbing spilled wine from your shirt with cheap detergent before throwing it in a washing machine with the rest of your clothes.

If you’re waiting patiently not only for your clothes to dry but also for that funny stranger with curly hair and a dorky smile to show up.

Maybe then his mind would calm down again. He doesn’t need any more distractions in his head.

"Knock knock," a firmer repetition. He’s not going to get discouraged.

"Come in," you retorted while a chuckle was threatening to slip from your lips. Adrian’s arms slouched down his body, enthusiasm transforming into…

Annoyance?

He so desperately wanted to see you smile, why couldn't you comply?

People usually laugh at his jokes, or more like they laugh at him. No matter the reason, people occasionally laugh in his presence alongside constant eye rolls. You haven’t done either and it is messing with him.

"Who’s there?" this time you decided to go along with his joke. These types of jokes are… foul, but you just want to see where he will land with it.

Determination is admirable in certain situations, in others it just leads to doom.  Like that one time when Adrian was chasing a thief down the street, low on bullets, ringing in his ears, lungs burning, but he could not forgive himself if that rat got away. All his attention was set on the dark figure way ahead of him that he did not notice a car when he sprinted across a badly lit street, ultimately knocking him down. Heavens were on his side that night, nothing serious happened except for a few nasty bruises and unrelenting remorse that haunted him following weeks.

But the good kind of determination? That’s gonna win him a smile from a pretty girl in the laundromat.

"Honey bee,"

"Honey bee who?"

"Honey bee a dear and get that for me please?" Adrian said it with a wide smile and excitement in his voice. He pointed at your laundry beads that boost the scent. "It smells so good when you open it, can I try it?"

You laughed just a bit. Fucking finally.

Now Adrian felt like at the top of the world. He made you laugh, no matter if it was just a pitying laugh to get him to shut up, he decided to believe you actually found him funny and no one could take that from him.

You noticed the dreamy look that plastered his face, especially when you let him borrow scented beads. Part of you cherished the fact he liked the ones you washed your clothes with every time and part of Adrian cherished the fact that now his clothes will smell like you before it wears out.

That his sleeping shirt will carry part of you on those nights that he doesn’t see you here.

Wait, when did that happen?

Smell of another person on his clothes should weird him out, it should give him goosebumps all over his pale skin. Why does it sound so comforting this time? Why does he want to keep part of you close?

The last time he felt something similar was when his brother Gut died. They weren’t super close, but his death hit him like a train and he quite literally became a trainwreck. Adrian sat in his brother’s childhood room for hours, taking notes of all the small details, remembering the exact position of each and every piece of furniture. And at times when he felt close to breaking into tears, he took out his brother’s shirts. The familiarity and memories brought comfort. Comfort that disappeared as fast as it came.

This time he was not mourning death of someone close to him, this time he did not miss the feeling of adrenaline that he felt with Peacemaker when they shot appliances in forest or when they killed criminals together before he got locked up.

This time Adrian felt a need to be close to someone he met just a few weeks ago, someone who barely knew him and had not gotten the chance to be taken back by his weirdness.

------------------

These thoughts and confusion followed him home that night. Not even the cold air could not break him out of trance. The way you laughed, the way you softly wished him goodnight when you parted ways, skin illuminated by purple neon light hanging above laundromat, and the way his now clean laundry smells like you since he begged for your scented beads.

Pull yourself together Adrian.

"I don’t understand how you might think Fargo is better than the Office or Better Call Saul for example. Saying it is the best show ever made is crazy" Friendly banter about TV series was accompanied by clicking of your flip-flops as you made your way towards your apartment complex just a couple blocks away from the laundromat.

Adrian had insisted that he walks you home this time, apparently he was afraid you might "fall asleep on your way home" since you two spent almost the whole night in the laundromat.

Sun was lazily rising, yellow painted the sky but few dark clouds were spoiling the otherwise beautiful picture. The smell of rain was in the air, you both knew there was a storm coming on a calm Sunday morning. Few joggers passed you in a hurry. Early birds. Psychopaths. Not like Adrian wasn’t psychotic at least a bit, but he wasn’t that mad to get up so early to run in still-cold weather.

Not just doing laundry, you also brought your book, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and read out loud for him to hear the difference between book and movie.

While you waited for your clothes to dry you two sat on uncomfortable chairs, you with book wide open, pages visible for Adrian to peek from behind your shoulder whenever he wanted. Though most of the time he spent with his eyes closed, face leaning on a stock of washing machines next to him, listening to your reading like a bedtime story.

Even after your laundry was done you decided to stick around, competing who flicks quarters farthest, catching peanuts in your mouth and testing echo in every washing machine. Until you finally decided to head home and get at least few hours of sleep, by that time it was past 5 a.m.

"What do you think is the best show then?" he calmly asked and nudged your shoulder with his own, encouraging you to answer.

"That show is like 100 years old! Dinosaurs watched it!" Adrian shook his head with laughter. You didn’t find his jokes funny but you loved this out of all the shows. Unbelievable.

"Well… I think the best show is The Kids in the Hall, undying classic." You knew your walk slowly but surely reached its end. You could see your main entrance, the fact you were reaching your home was setting you aflame in the worst way possible.

Nonetheless, your eyelids grew heavy and you could not stop yourself from yawning every few seconds, an unavoidable need to fall into your bed and surrender to sweet slumber.

"Hey! If you call that show old, it is like you’re calling yourself old! Should I call nursing to pick you up?" You stopped in front of your apartment complex, not entirely sure if Adrian realized this is where your hangout ends. You turned around to face him and quickly jabbed him in the chest with your finger.

"Ha ha, very funny. But really? So many good shows and you pick this one? And call me out for liking Fargo? You have horrible taste." He couldn’t let this go now he saw how adorable you looked when you were angry. What is the worst that can happen if he teases you more, right?

"Shut it, Adrian. I’m serious." You said that so calmly it almost took him aback, however he could see the fire burning behind your eyes. It only riled him up more.

"You can’t make me-"

Oh, you could.

You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down swiftly. The best solution to shut him up was to press your lips against his. A firm, simple kiss that sent electricity through your body.

You felt a muffled yelp that escaped Adrian’s mouth when you surprised him in such an affectionate manner. And at that moment, when your lips touched his, for the first time in a while his mind was quiet, yet his soul was singing.

Time stopped, eyes were tightly shut, heart hammering inside, begging to jump out of his chest, one of his hands found its place on your forearm in uncertainty and took a step closer to get his body closer to you.

You, on the other hand, were fully aware of what was happening. The feeling of gratification that you “won” an argument was the last thing on your mind.

The only thing you could think of was acting up on your secret wishes that swam through your head every time you went to the laundromat to see him.

Suddenly aware of everything, you felt the heat that radiated from Adrian’s body, warming you up in cold air, a few raindrops making you shiver as they fell on your skin. Or were you shivering from the closeness of this intimate act? If anyone asked you would not be able to answer. It did not matter anyway, the only thing that mattered was you kissing him.

The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, but you would both swear it was an eternity. When you pulled away, slowly and delicately, Adrian still had eyes closed, hand hanging in the air where your arm used to be. You realized his mind was completely shut off. A smile formed on your lips at the thought of shutting Adrian up this way every time he brings up some stupid nonsensical squabble.

You left him standing there as rain started to fall on his hair, diamonds in those dark brown curls. And when he finally came to his senses and decided to open his eyes…

You were gone.

Coldness on his body where you were pressed together, sparks lingering on lips, sweet perfume filling his nose, those should be indicators that it was very much real, but his mind was not certain. How could it be, when the stupid brain ceased the second his dreams came true.

You quickly ran upstairs to your apartment, running up to the window in your kitchen and from behind a curtain you watched confused Adrian, who was walking in the opposite direction.

What other choice did you leave him than to head home and wonder.

Wonder about what you were doing when raindrops splattered on the sidewalk, sounding like your flip-flops.

Wonder if you’re already sleeping safe and sound in your bedroom like he will when he reaches his home.

Wonder if you kiss him again once you see each other next week in the laundromat.

Wonder if the laundry girl was real or just a dream.

[mmmichyyy]

inspired by this snippet from the las culturistas podcast to write this silly gallavich ficlet 🥪

it's two in the afternoon, and ian is bored out of his skull.

the office temp job was supposed to be, well, temporary. an easy way to earn some cash, contribute to the squirrel fund, save a couple bucks for a rainy day.

but three months later he's still the office bitch - ordering office supplies, organizing files, killing a couple trees a day because documents can't be printed double-sided for some reason, getting everyone's coffee order, messing up everyone's coffee order (god forbid brenda drinks a latte with foam once in a while) - while spending every waking minute fighting the urge to blow his brains out.

ian checks his watch. two hours, fifty-five minutes, thirty-six seconds until he clocks out. thank god it's fucking friday, at least.

the great thing about being a lowly temp worker is the fact that no one pays him any attention. his cubicle is in a dusty corner with a desk and a worn out swivel chair that endless other temps have sat their ass on before him. as long as he finished his tasks for the day and people are sufficiently caffeinated, he can be on his phone and no one can say shit.

so obviously, he's swiping grindr on company time, because what the hell else is he going to do?

mickey. 23. dick me down hard or fuck off.

hm. the guy only has two pictures - one mirror selfie, blurry, though his slicked-back dark hair and blue eyes standout on milky skin. damn. already ian is into him.

but then. the other mirror pic, taken of his backside, is what makes ian believe in some kind of higher power up in the sky. because holy shit this guy might just have the nicest ass he's ever seen?? round, plump, partially covered in soft grey briefs, and ready to be devoured. hello?? yes??

ian: free tonight? i can dick you down good and hard :)

mickey: how long

ian: however long you want baby

mickey: i meant your dick dumbass

ian: oh

[attached image: my_dick_morning_wood_69.png]

mickey: meet me in 30 mins

ian blinks. thirty minutes? he glances at the time. 2:18pm. what kind of guy wants to meet for a hook-up in broad daylight? is he a sociopath? or a murderer who likes to see their victim clearly as he stabs them multiple times?

whatever. for a quality ass like that, it's a risk he'll have to take.

as usual, no one in the office even glances his way as he hastily grabs his backpack and bolts towards the elevator.

ian: address?

*

"i think you broke me," ian pants, flopping on his back, boneless and completely satiated. "oh my god. how... where did you even learn how to do that?"

mickey shrugs and casually lights a cigarette, as if he didn't just rock ian's entire world. twice. and again. "lots of practice."

"i didn't even know someone could bend that way," ian says in awe, completely fascinated by the magical gremlin with the nimble fingers. "and the thing with your tongue?? are you a trained acrobat or something?"

mickey blows out a line of smoke and offers up the cigarette between his fingers, to which ian eagerly accepts.

"i know what i like, and i'm good at it." mickey lightly pats ian on the cheek. ian responds by melting into a pile of goo. "you weren't so bad yourself, stud."

oh. oh no. ian is done for.

before he can say anything or unhinge his jaw wide open for round three? four? his stomach gurgles out a loud groan. very unsexy, quite possibly the least attractive sound, ever. ian blushes, hoping mickey didn't hear it. but then–

"you wanna get a sandwich?"

ian twists his neck to the side so fast, he nearly gets whiplash.

"what?!"

mickey snatches the nearly finished filter from ian's hand and stubs it out on the side table ashtray. jumps up from the bed and tosses over ian's shirt from the floor. "c'mon, get your ginger ass up. there's a deli down on the corner that makes a mean spicy meatball sub and the parm is to fuckin' die for. been thinking 'bout it all day."

"you wanted to have sex in the afternoon and now you want a sandwich? with me?" ian has had his fair share of hookups, but never has he met someone so sexually deviant yet simultaneously endearing like mickey. is he dreaming right now? "seriously, who are you??"

mickey scoffs. "you think i'm going to take it up the ass after eating a meatball sub? you're a fuckin' idiot. so you wanna go stuff yourself with tomato sauce or not?"

yeah. ian is in love.

[prettynalilmagic]

ℙ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝔸 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕: 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕜- ℝ𝕖𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟

Decks: Considerate Cat Tarot Vol 2, The Dark Mirror, Tarot of Pagan Cats, The Wild Unknown Archetypes

This reading will be shadow work based on what exactly are we repressing and not aware of. And how to work through it with advice from me and tarot. Take everything as a small guide, tarot is a tool for guidance and not to see or predict the future.

Pile one

First things first, Go get therapy.

"Its not about choosing the chains.

Its about choosing them again and again."

Pile one welcome to your little section. So, I had a theme card for your overall shadow, which was Addicted. At first, I was troubled with finding out exactly what type of addiction was causing you to repress your shadow, and I kept pulling cards and I realized that your shadow is built on way too many situations that come back to your dissatisfaction from your life. Pile One your addicted to hating yourself. You have heavy cards that show me that there’s this feeling of self-inflicted despair. Your shadow emits contempt for life, you hate yourself and honestly hate life overall. The hanged Man in reverse shows me that you grew up very much internally, most of your experiences are based inwardly as you felt left behind on life. Everyone seemed to reject you. Your loved ones, and people who are supposed to be close, turned their backs on you at some point so in turn you did the same. The world rejected you growing up. Life showed you, that you aren’t deserving of love, so you internalized that and have subconsciously clung onto that delusion.

Pile one do you feel like nothing can change you? Nothing can fix you? That things will stay the same or get worse over time? Have you even thought about how you feel about yourself truly? When was the last time you willingly reflected on your own self-image? Do you think there's any motivation for you to live your life beyond what traps you? Going back to your theme card, your repression is very much self-imprisoned. You don’t see you can work through any internal conflict and you in turn have been chaining your own self to depression. Nobody is perfect, that's true, but self-discovery is beautiful however it's also difficult. This won't be an easy task.

Mentally, you’re at rock bottom almost every day. Do you dissociate a lot? Do you even know if you do? Because I recently discovered that I dissociate a whole lot throughout my life and have never known I was doing it. Human brains are truly mind blowing, it can take and hold so much stress and pain, then hide it away from us so when we don’t keep reliving and feeling all that hurt.

Nobody wants to struggle and be depressed, and our brain very much plays a part in helping us hide it away. Chances are you downplay or don’t care to think or consider your own shadow self.

I'm not fit to diagnose, but pile one look into Complex Trauma, C-PTSD, and being Shame Bound. Learn about various types of traumas, habits, and attachment styles on YouTube it will help you get a rough idea on understanding what you need to improve on without using therapy. However, please if you can, look into seeing a psychologist and a therapist.

I know life is super tough as it is for you and you might not be able to afford it but research if there's anything you can afford and if you truly have searched, look into self-help groups online and self-help programs as well. There are free eBooks you can illegally get, pirate that shit. Get a tarot deck for yourself and do shadow work readings. Also please stop reading all the dumbass future partner and next lover readings, invest love into your own damn self before investing it onto some person you most likely haven’t even met or aren’t going to meet. Sorry it's a pet peeve of mine. Chances are you’re reading this on your phone or computer, get on the notes app and write out that little ass of yours. Please there’s still so many ways to make your own mental stability easier on yourself. There's so much stuff you can do if you truly look into it, I recommend watching Patrick Teahan, Heidi Priebe, Psych2Go, and Kati Morton, they're my personal favorite therapy youtubers, and they can help you.

Okay going back to the cards, and not my own personal input, the hanged man in reversed also shows me that it was your environment growing up that has formed you into who you are. Life for you looked like everything was so big and almost outta reach for you to grasp, but you’re still here, you have developed habits that has made growing up easier, you learn to get by.

Which leads me to the present, you got the 9 of cups, meaning that your experiences have made you who you are. It ties back to all those built of moments of isolation and lack of love for yourself that you grew up with. Obviously when we grow up knowing others are treating or making you feel some type of way, you take from that and build your mindset on all those experiences.

This hatred is what we use to get by and we build ourselves up to work with our hatred. You know you felt like you are replaceable or have a deep fear of being left behind, we go outta our way to justify being the ones to leave others and replace other people with anything else to get that same feeling, until the same trigger happens. It's a never-ending cycle and growing up it can actually be helpful. As a child we only experienced all the heavy emotions and were not shown consistent or significant amount of effort for our needs, so we learn to not expect that and run away from anything that triggers that little child in you. No one was there to show love so obviously unhealthy habits and mindsets get developed and grow up with us and only gets worse and worse as time flies by. Pile one, you are depressed and hopeless but cheer up, just because your life hasn’t been the best does not equate to that being a set-in stone reality for the rest of your life.

You can make your own life better; the daughter of cups reverse shows me that there's this desire to play around with stuff, just do it. Stop thinking about it, do it. Fuck shit up, stop being afraid of messing stuff up, you think the ones who have hurt you stopped when they were making you feel not cared for or loved? Nope, so just have fun.

Do that fun hobby idea you been thinking about. Get messy with life, even if it is creating something very sloppy. You want to express yourself some type of way but feel like you shouldn’t? Well just do it, even if you feel like a joke or an idiot just try it and see how it feels. Even if you don’t necessarily want to do something or show off a different look or skill, and your more so afraid of making mistakes and not being perfect, just push that thought to the back of your head.

If you spill your drink and make a mess, guess what you can clean it up, you don't have to get mad at yourself or at the drink. Shit happens, and why should you submerge yourself into all the small things with these big emotions like anger and sadness. Relax and rest those pretty eyes. Which goes into your last main card, Four of Swords. Again, relax for once, don’t guilt yourself. Everyone who has it easy, allows themself to relax from time. Even if they don’t doesn't mean that you should do the same thing. Have fun, learn more about who you are and why you are here. There’s so much self-sabotage that goes unnoticed by everyone.

Learn from yourself, thank who you had to become to get to here, and learn how to work past that when that shadow side doesn't help you anymore. You don’t have to 100% love yourself to overcome your shadow. Because here’s the thing, you’re not overcoming it, you’re learning to accept it and work with it to do better. Your shadow is who you are and use it to your ability to grow. Pile one get outta here and watch some therapy videos pls, you will be happier even for just a second.

Pile Two

"What I can't have forever, I will have for a minute. What I can't have for a minute, I will hold to me for one second."

Hello pile two, welcome to your pile. I assume for the most part your shadow is not something you shy away from because quite frankly there's not a significant amount of repression that is being displayed; I feel like this kind of shifted into a little bit of a motivational reading from your guides to tell you about one specific flaw in you rather to tackle down one serious hindering issue.

You guys got two theme cards for your theme of the overall shadow side that you're repressing. I pulled Masquerade and Queen of my world, for you pile two. Both cards have one thing in common. Both are attached to the word Bargain. Which tells me that you tend to do the most to procrastinate the process of bad emotions or habits. Masquerade is all about living in the moment and doing everything in your power to savor and dwell into the fleeting moments you so desperately want to hold onto and stick to. Queen of my world is all about holding onto a facade that hinders the possibility of being seen as anything other than graceful and powerful. You also pulled the daughter of wands in reversed. Which tells me that you procrastinate as well, and you can honestly be very disorderly as well.

You repress your shadow self because of how uncomfortable you are for being seen as who you wish you could be.

You know when we live our whole lives trying to maintain a certain image, it can be so hard and honestly draining. It makes sense why you want to slack off and just live in the moment because maintaining the way you think you have to come off to other people is very draining and if you think about it, your facade is stressful weather you are or aren't aware of it. Having live off of short moments and a false persona is only going to fulfill you for so long, do you think pretending to be stronger, smarter, or fiercer than you really going to stop you from embracing your true inner strength? Because aren't you tired of always having to consistently perform? I don't know if you are even doing it for yourself because doing that for so long will tire you out and make you unsure of who you are deep down.

Pile two, I did pull the son of cups. Which is a very charming and very appealing person to be around, this just reinforces that you will be this at all times for everyone and everything. Given that this is the card that's supposed to represent your present reality, I believe that you are a very much cookie cutter desired person. Someone who is always on top of how you appear as. All I see is that there's this big grand facade of being this person that is so desirable and welcoming. Everyone wants to present themselves in a good light to an extent but for you pile two it's very apparent that this isn't a want for you, it is a need and you do whatever needs to be done to be this beautiful picture-perfect version of yourself, but your human, so guess what? You are at a point where you have to chill out and learn to be yourself, not the ideal version at all times. It's okay to not be what everyone else wants you to be, or what your parents want you to be or whoever else you want to idealize you. You're a human, you're only capable of so much, you're flawed, and you can want to do or partake in things that are different from what should be expected from you. 

I pulled The High Priestess in reversed for you as clarification for Son of Cups.  Which tells me that you are a very spiritual person, which would make sense, you are reading a tarot reading. Besides that, it brings up to light that your inner self is not being done justice.

Do you even understand who you truly are? Not what you think you have to be to maintain approval.

This facade habit is not aligned with your highest potential. Because face it, do you think you will be happy for the rest of your life pretending to be something that isn't the real you? Just because others think you will be does not make that idea a reality, stop deceiving your true potential.

I don't want to assume but my guess is you may or may not have immigrant parents that have kind of forced this urgency to be a certain way to please them. At the end of the day, you know how you want to be or wish to be. If you don't relate to that portion obviously disregard it, it could be anything from grades, skills, and appearance. Maybe it's a controlling figure, which could be a lover or a person in power over you causing you to feel like you cannot be authentically yourself. 

The next card for you is Chariot, which is all about heading straight to where you want to be. Who you want to be. Nobody is going to be able to do it for you. You have built a wonderful mask for yourself for so long that it'll be hard to take it off and learn what you look like when you aren't wearing one. It will be unnatural to you at first, but you will get used to it. You got this pile two. I hope the best for you beautiful. 

Pile Three

"I cannot recognize myself. But I'm still me."

Welcome to your reading Pile three. I pulled two oracle cards; Downcast Pride and Is this Me, which the purpose is to reflect on the main themes of your reading. Is this Me is associated with the last stage the Dark Mirrors Oracle grief cycle, which the stage of acceptance, whereas Downcast Pride is associated with the depression stage.

Which brings up the primary point- your shadow self that is being repressed, is your own lack of attachment to joy or fulfillment for your life. This pile does remind me a lot about pile one, as both were attached to the stage of depression. There's been this emptiness in our lives for so long, that we become very dull in life and don't bother to work or see things in a way outside of that empty feeling. Yet, on contrast to pile one, pile three is more so at the phrase of depression morphing into the stage of acceptance. Pile three has wisdom and more insight compared to both previous piles. Pile three you have this inward recognition that everyone is within means of having the capacity to alter your method of thinking and act based on that. You're the more self-aware pile so congratulations on that. I got the High Priestess reversed, Nine of Cups reversed, and Two of Swords as the cards to represent what is being repressed from your past. Nine of Cups was the overall main card for the first question and when it's in reversed I read it as dissatisfaction despite all the opportunities that have been given to us. Perhaps, we overestimated what should be given or granted to us and are disappointed that we don't feel satisfied even if our needs have generally been met. In other words, even though you didn't have the worst hand in life, you're not content. It's possible, you have taken your status, or a piece of your own identity for granted. Given the length of time we have used certain facets of our identity for so long, or maybe even briefly; our perspective of our identity can very much be impacted with that facet we once were attached to and what we used to represent. And it also plays a significant role in preserving our happiness and contentment. Now, this "opportunity" or fragment of identify has gotten away as time gives space for it to vanish off. Life is all about change, it's difficult to accept yet we can't and shouldn't allow it to dictate our personal fulfillment. Change is devasting but so is self-pity, a little self-pity is healthy for you, too much is detrimental for us to expand ourselves onto newer and better things. This could mean anything, such as growing up thin and gorgeous. Years go by and now you've gained more weight than you like, eyes have become dull and wrinkly skin has formed in the corners of your eyes, forehead, arms and almost your entire body. Maybe you're blaming yourself for not earning as much money or for not being able to get the same level of love, appreciation or attention from other people. It could be anything—even a passion that ignited a fire in your life that has gradually faded over time. (Mind you, I am not saying that if you picked pile three you have to be old enough to be worrying about wrinkles or having to make more money from the previous year, any age group could pick this. School, family and mental/physical illnesses can be factors as well not just time itself.) Two of Swords also brings up a different point, that highlights being at a standoff with decision-making. Pile three, did you make a lot of decisions based off of what someone else told you was better or what would best suit someone else? Two of swords displays a lot of lack of self-assurance and I think that part of your fulfillment that's displayed from Downcast Pride roots from not being more assertive in your own personal decisions. The High Priestess is a very spiritual card, and as it is included in the spread's earlier sections, I interpret this to mean that either an inner wisdom has been present but has been clouded by the lack of purpose and achievement. You have potential, but with all this chaotic energy, you have suppressed a lot of this fulfillment. Even after all this time has passed and you still feel as though you are in the same place in life. How come you never knew or tried to figure out what you wanted to do? You're not content and have felt like happiness and fulfillment hasn't been present in life. Pile three, it has to feel devastating for you.

Another way that I’m reading the high priestess is that the high priestess is all about our inner calling and inner wisdom. Based on the other two cards, I would say that this is what is blocking off all this magical, inner wisdom being brought up. Meaning, we must solve our own issues to let our inner voice be shined. Seek assistance from anyone or any place that might help you becoming more aware of your inner reality.

You also got the Son of Cups and Judgement reversed. Which just reinforces what I said the previous paragraph. Son of Cups represents a charming and idealistic person that everyone loves and desires. Whilst Judgement reversed is highlighting missed opportunities and failure. Failure to be the Sun of Cups. Failure to grow past who you used to be.

Mourn your past. Accept it’s not with you anymore. Move on so you can grow. I am aware it’s easier said than done, but it still needs to be addressed.

Lamenting over who you wish you still were, or where you want to be is rather pointless. Stop wishing for something thats now unattainable for you. Look for the new you, answers and solutions for yourself. Morph into something better so that the old you would’ve been jealous of new present you. When you think about it, it’s actually good that some things cannot be changed because then there’s a plethora of options for growth and numerous outcomes for who we can be.

Now, I pulled Father of Swords, for advice for you to help you work through accepting your shadow self. This card is pretty straightforward, Father of Swords is a very authoritative and is someone who strives onward. He’s also someone who’s very logical and knows that in order for blessings we have to work and set ourselves up for blessings. He does what he has to do to get to where he wants to be. He dosn’t live in the past, he lives in the present while working for the future. Spirt wants me to tell you to do the same so you can work through your repression of your shadow.

[lilkrissmuffet]

Hey how are you so if the female bio android reader has the same biology as cell does that also imply she also has similar powers as well, like she is able to make copies of herself like cell, I bet cell would love having a threesome with the reader and her clone, especially if both readers won’t stop kissing and caressing his body, begging for his attention

THAT, my friend, is a tasty concept! My logical brain wants to say that she doesn't have that ability because she wasn't engineered as a combat android. The multiform technique was made for fightin', not lovin' lol

BUT

It's still hot af.

Too hot to pass up, in fact.

(Author's note: Sorry not sorry, I spent WAY too much time writing this shit uhhhhh yeah *nervous laughter*)

When Mother programmed you with a multiform technique, she informed you that it was strictly so you would be able to juggle your numerous household duties in a more timely and efficient manner.

There was cleaning to do, of course, not to mention near astronomical amounts of cooking. Mother's husband -a man you would never dare call 'Papa' to his face- had an appetite like a damn garbage disposal, and so this task left you with very little time to properly tend to the family's only two human children.

However, engaging 'multiform' meant that you could be in multiple places at once, dividing yourself into identical copies of your original body in order to get all of your chores done. You could do this up to five times, to be exact, but there was a downside to stretching yourself so thin. Your energy level would be cut in half each time you multiplied, and so every new copy produced would tire everyone twice as fast. Mother advised you to keep it down to two as much as possible, but the amount of work she saddled you with on a daily basis inevitably made this...difficult.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of preparing a huge feast for Papa's birthday and making sure Mother's rambunctious older son stayed out of her unattended laboratory, you (and your four clones) were totally exhausted. Pulling yourself back together helped some, but you were definitely left with the overwhelming need to blow off some steam after the stress of the day had worn you down. You may have been half-android, but you were also half-organic too, which meant you had certain...very biological needs.

That was why, when Mother told you to take the rest of the night off to relax and literally recharge your 'batteries', you practically leapt at the opportunity to go see HIM.

You knew your family didn't approve of your relationship with Perfect Cell. Especially Papa, who had helped fight him during the big game that you had only heard about since it happened several years prior to your creation. They said that Cell had tried to destroy the Earth...but little did they know, the only thing he had been destroying lately was you.

As it turned out, he was relatively easy to find that night. Mother had invited him to the birthday party out of obligation, a reluctant show of gratitude for assisting with some scientific endeavor or other. Plus, Papa had mentioned Cell would get all uppity if he didn't receive an invitation. That sounded about right to you.

Sure enough, you found him lounging out by the pool, a pair of dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting the chlorinated water in a warm tangerine glow. As you approached, Cell became aware of two pairs of delicate footsteps pitter-pattering along the walkway.

"Who's your friend, sweetheart?", he asked lazily, sounding as if he didn't care much either way. It was clear that the party had bored him rather quickly, but at least your Mother's house provided a nice place to kick back and relax for a change. And you were there, of course. He never sought you out directly, because he knew he didn't have to. Cell could always be sure you would come to him first.

"Oh...it's just little ol' me, Celly~!", you replied with a playful lilt in your voice, melodic and saccharine-sweet. Your fingertips brushed his shoulder as you circled around the chair, gracefully swinging one leg over his to straddle him. Your clone stood behind, bending down to drape her arms around his neck, her hand splayed out across his broad, armored chestplate.

Cell tried not to show his surprise when he heard your voice whisper something utterly salacious in his ear, trying to reconcile the fact that you were still sitting pretty on his lap, looking for all the world like an angel with the wings of a butterfly. He raised a single brow ridge, lowering his shades to fix you with his fuchsia-eyed gaze.

"Ah. So my little pet has learned a new trick, has she?", mused the android, casually taking the hand massaging his pectorals and gracing its inner wrist with a gentlemanly kiss.

"I must admit, that does liven up the festivities quite a bit."

~

As night fell, the evening chill drove the (mostly inebriated) party-goers inside, granting the three of you enough privacy to celebrate however Cell saw fit.

And that involved you, both of you, down on your knees. Kneeling before him in a display of subservience, your long, proboscis-like tongues tangled around his thick, milk white cock, the length of it already slick with a syrupy mix of his own self-lubricating fluid and your saliva.

"Mmm...such good girls...", Cell practically purred his praise, making sure to remember that there were now two of you to double his pleasure. Running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, you latched your soft lips around the head, flushed the same lusty shade of violet as the android's face as you drew him deeper into the melting heat of your mouth.

Your clone, however, had other ideas. Ducking below you, she positioned her face level with the fleshy orifice from which Cell's member had emerged. With careful precision, she began to lap at the slick, uber-sensitive folds that enveloped the base, sampling the faintly sweet liquid that steadily leaked out from around his massive protrusion. This earned her a deep, guttural groan from above, and she swore she could feel his thighs quiver.

"Why, you sneaky little...", Cell scolded, grabbing her by the hair to meet his eyes. The two of you were delighted to find that your twin's efforts had ruffled Cell's non-existent feathers, if nothing else. The normally steady rhythm of his breathing had wavered a bit, and there was a distinct husk to his tone that wasn't there a few seconds ago. "Th-that...that's enough. Put that pretty mouth to work somewhere more useful."

"Oohhh, somebody's sensitive...Was that tooooo much for you, Celly?", your other half cooed, fluttering her pale eyelashes in a maddeningly coquettish fashion. He frowned, gritting his teeth in response. "Shut it, brat. Or I will make you.", he growled, abruptly suspending her in the air with one hand around her tiny waist. Turning his attention back to you, still sucking him off like it was your job, he fondly patted you on the head.

"Honestly, darling...Why can't your sister be more like you? Perhaps I should teach her some proper manners."

Indeed, the soft, tender bits of purple flesh nestled in the gaps between his exo-skeletal armor had always been a weak spot of sorts, especially in the vicinity surrounding his inguinal carapace. Cell had never let anyone touch him down there before, and even if you were the sole exception to that rule...using your luscious oral appendage to do so made it feel like his circuits were rapidly overloading, and not in an entirely pleasant way.

Plus, he had no desire to finish just yet. Not with two lovely specimens fawning over his perfect body instead of one.

While your twin thrashed her spindly legs and flapped her wings in frustration, begging to be put down, Cell used his free hand to peel you off of his cock with a wet pop. Taking the time to admire the view of the drool dripping down your chin and glistening in the valley of your cleavage, he flashed you his signature devilish grin.

"Would you like to go for a ride, my dear?" His fingers lightly played along the line of your jaw, teasing you with one obsidian claw pressed into the soft underside of your chin. Forcing your head back until his lips were hovering an inch or two from your slightly parted mouth, his breath was so hot and eager, you could practically taste his want on your tongue.

Nodding fervently, you stood up, just as excited as he was to have you wrapped around him. Cell beckoned you with the same sharp talon he could've just as easily opened your throat with, and you obediently slipped your panties out from under your party dress before crawling up to join him once more. Cell would've been remiss not to reward you for that, kissing you hungrily while you positioned yourself on top of him.

Your Mother may have designed you with the elegance of a butterfly in mind, but from the moment you first laid eyes on The Perfect Being, you had become nothing if not his loyal lapdog.

At the same time you were slowly sinking down onto his length with a needful whine, relishing every inch that stretched and filled and molded your insides to fit him like a glove, Cell had deigned to gift your angry twin with some much-needed attention. The arm holding her aloft had long been replaced with the android's serpentine tail, constricting around her fragile body like a great, speckled python. Naturally, she was none too happy about this, given she was only permitted to watch while you were roughly bounced around on Cell's cock- a mewling, sentient ragdoll.

"Hey, no faaaair!! When is it gonna be MY-", she squealed in protest, her words cut off with a choking gasp as the tail tightened around her midriff.

"Oh, you'll get your turn...", Cell chuckled darkly, even as he nuzzled the nape of your neck, trailing hot kisses down between your shoulderblades while you continued to grind on his lap. His hands gripped your tits like handlebars, physically dragging you up and down his throbbing shaft as if you were a mere toy. Meanwhile, the stinger at the tip of his tail slithered up between your clone's thighs, immediately halting the defiant kicking of her feet.

"Tell me, little one...", Cell whispered into your neck, inhaling your flowery, oh-so-fertile scent, "Whose cunt do you think is tighter? Wetter? Yours? Or perhaps...your sweet sister's?"

Your copy let out another loud gasp as the stinger rudely penetrated her, pushing deep enough to prod at the entrance to her womb. Cell sighed with unabashed delight, fully enjoying the dual sensations of you riding his cock while he fucked your bratty imitation with his secondary sex organ. Both of you were absolutely drenched, coating each of Cell's appendages like he had just dipped them in honey.

"Well, well...I do believe this calls for a bit of a tie-breaker~!"

Sliding one hand down to the crease of your hip, he guided your motions in just the way he liked, leading you in an intimate dance. The other snuck beneath your dress, reaching around to place the pad of his index over your swelling clitoris, just barely making contact. "Now, I know you would never let your 'better half' show you up like that, sweetheart...", he taunted, his finger unmoving despite your pleading whimpers and bucking hips.

Better yet, he knew you wouldn't dare disappoint him. And he would make damn sure of it too. After all, there was no need to rub or caress the most sensitive part of you when he could simply make you fall apart with a single touch. You felt a warm, gentle buzzing sensation as Cell summoned a small amount of ki to effectively convert the digit into a makeshift vibrator, applying a bit more pressure, a bit more power, just to feel you clench even tighter around him...before drawing back again. And again. He couldn't help but love the little noises you made when he played with you like that.

Above the heads of you and your rather demanding lover, your twin was proving to be some stiff competition indeed. Her pussy was dripping juices down Cell's tail while the expanded tip thrust in and out of her at a merciless pace, stretching her open obscenely.

Anyone who dared to peek out the window would've been in for quite the show, seeing the helpless, winged creature impaled by the snake-like extremity that held her captive. Despite the volume of her frenzied cries, she was not the only one edging towards the finish line.

"Let go now, pet...Come for me." Cell ground out through his teeth, using you to chase his own release while his tail only served to supplement his enjoyment. His finger had grown almost painfully hot on your clit, driving you towards orgasm with the rapid, pulsing energy of his power. The hand that wasn't bracing yourself on his muscular thigh for balance reached back to grab onto one of the tall crests of his crown, a flailing, frantic gesture he might've found endearing were he not just about primed to explode all over your insides.

But the closer he got, the more filthy his normally dignified tongue became.

"I said come on my fucking cock, you worthless little insect. Drown it.", he snarled and snapped like a beast, baring his teeth, "Choke the goddamn life out of it...Milk. Me. Dry!"

Near the end, he bit down hard on the soft, synthetic skin of your shoulder, drawing cerulean artificial blood from the wounds while he pumped you full to the brim with the searing hot, irrefutable proof of his virility. Only after you'd screamed his name did he relent, licking his lips with pure satisfaction at the mess he'd made of his favorite plaything.

When it came to Cell, all you could do was what you were told.

~

"It appears we have a winner, ladies..." Cell hummed contentedly, running his fingers through your hair while you lay panting across his chest. He was still buried deep inside you, but now that he had released your 'sister' android from the punishing grip of his now retracted tail, it was time to make room for two.

Gently nudging you over, he draped your clone on top of his other side, right next to you. His softening phallus slipped out of your well-used hole in the process, and he had to admit he was a bit amused by the sheer amount of cream he'd filled you with. But even more so, the sight of you and your dear sister so adorably tuckered out in his arms.

"I would say the original is always best...but that might make me a liar, I suppose." Cell smirked to himself, subtly referring to the many sources of his own conception, most of which were currently inside stuffing their idiotic faces with birthday cake and expensive wine. Including the birthday boy himself.

"Now then, aren't you two curious about the victor of our naughty little game?"

But there was only silence from the twin butterfly girls sprawled out on his lap. You were snoring quietly into the crook of his neck, the feathery tips of your antennae tickling under his chin while your other half had buried her face in his chest. Both pairs of gossamer wings twitched and fluttered gently in the breeze as Cell softened his voice and pulled you closer.

"Hmm...Evidently not. Guess I'll have to dole out your prize another time."

He nuzzled and pecked the top of your head affectionately while giving your copy a light-hearted swat on the backside for good measure. A temporary reward for two jobs well done.

~

A little while later, neither Mother nor Papa were sober enough to notice Cell come casually strolling through the door with you in a princess carry, your sleeping form made whole again. Losing consciousness had de-activated your multiform mode, and he knew you needed your beauty rest.

The next morning, Mother went to your room to check on you, just as she did with all of her children. She found you tucked safely into bed, though looking a bit worse for wear. But what really caught her eye was the post-it note that had been cleanly skewered by one of your antennae, perfectly neat, cursive handwriting adorning both sides of the paper.

Careful to pluck it free without waking you, her eyes narrowed considerably as she read the message, realizing who had written it long before she saw the author's obnoxiously embellished signature.

~

My dearest Doctor,

I must thank you for inviting me to the little prince's party! Another year older and yet, he still manages to snivel and pout like a spoiled child. Pitiful, really.

Which reminds me, since you seem so keen on continually seeking my assistance with your research regarding the matter of artificial intelligence, allow me to offer a small token of pertinent advice:

Mind the help.

Seriously, you're lucky I didn't actually break her this time. And before you and your pathetic husband come crying to me about it- No, I will NOT be held responsible for any and all offspring not expressly birthed by YOURS TRULY.

~Mr. Perfect Cell

~

"Pompous prick," she muttered under her breath in disgust, promptly crumpling up the note in her fist and tossing it in the trash...leaving you to dream about that so-called 'pompous prick' and his stupidly handsome face for the remainder of your well-deserved day off.

💚

[42gasp]

oc bio ig idk

☽ ❆ ☾

Name: Leviathan Prince

Age: 28

Species: human

Gender: agender

Pronouns: they/them

Sexuality: aro/ace

Preferred weapon: greatsword

☽ ❆ ☾

Personality

Leviathan has constant mood swings. Oftentimes incredibly out of it, staring off into space, hearing and processing nothing, yet never taken by surprise. When they're "present," however, things often get much worse. Sometimes, they're excitable, almost happy-go-lucky, energetic, and to an extent, "kind." However, on a dime that can change to angry, violent, and near-murderous. Almost all the time, though, they are obsessive, and do everything in excess. If a task must be completed, it will be done not perfectly, but in the most interesting way possible, with the most colorful approach.

☽ ❆ ☾

Physical description

Leviathan is 5'11, with long dark blue hair that's messy, tangled, and sticks out at odd angles when not tied up. If they do have to put up their hair, they'll do it in a quick, mostly useless "bun" that's really just a fudged-up ponytail. Their skin is slightly dark and covered in scars. They don't know where any of them are from - be they from fights, accidents, or Leviathan themself. A notable patch of them are the "gills" near the base of their neck, three on each side. Some say they're birthmarks and the reason for the name "Leviathan." Others know better. Their eyes change color. No one is certain of it as first - it looks convincingly like a trick of the light when they shift from deep red to royal purple. But then they shift to a piercing, glowing light blue right after being a calming pinkish, and people accept that they have some sort of magic there. Though their eyes never seem to leave the zone of blue to purple to red, a few have reported seeing a bright white rapidly shifting to a black and fiery red when in a fight. Leviathan's clothing style is about as consistent as their eye color. They might put on something strange, such as a skintight sleeveless "crop-top" with dramatic and flaring pants to go to a fight, or they could choose to wear half-plate armor to pray to their god. Though it seems they never put on anything comfortable.

☽ ❆ ☾

Backstory

Leviathan never had a chance at a normal life. It's not something they could have wanted, though, growing up where they did. Their home is a human village unlike the others. Small, yes, and weak, but hidden, and "protected." They do not worship the gods of the other humans. This village worships The Madness God Alka. And unfortunately for Leviathan, they were chosen to be an avatar since the day their parents decided to have a child. This turned out to be perfect, which of course, was believed to be a blessing from their patron. Leviathan was not born crying, they were born almost entirely silently - until the second hour of their life, in which they threw such a fit that four doctors were needed to put them somewhere safe. They did not sleep for the first week of their existence, and they refused food at random. Until their second month, they were a nightmare. And then things seemed to get easy. Leviathan was silent for years after that, the tantrums and refusals forgotten as they became lost inside their own head. They did not speak until they were four, when it turned out they were fluent not only in the language of their village, but in common as well. People grew concerned that this was not meant to be the avatar of Alka. Until their twelfth birthday. When they sent three people to the hospital who hadn't even planned to attend the celebration - they were just passing outside. Two of those people did not make it out of the hospital beds until it was time for their burial. That was when their training began. The town only had one past avatar, unfortunately, who could only pass down so much of the knowledge they held in their scrambled brain. It didn't interest Leviathan much. Instead, they begun to train themself. They would disappear into the woods for hours, or days, or months on end, returning empty-handed and each time with more scars. Yet they were celebrated for it, the town glad that their protector would be ready one day. Until they /were/ ready. That day - their twentieth birthday - they had disappeared. They went into the church, pulsing with mana, and they had never come back out. Of course, they hadn't died. Instead, they sat in front of a small stream, and waited. They waited for a year, then two, then five. Until now.

☽ ❆ ☾

@cheddar-cheese-official I did it

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

I'm literally about to sleep but Kate and the 141 being a sense8 cluster is this anything

THE WAY MY EYES WIDENED HOLY SHIT

(Gonna ignore age differences. Maybe they all technically died and "breathed their first breath together" upon resuscitation I love shit like that anyway)

They would be in a cluster for the LONGEST time and not realize it. The guys would BE in the task force together and NOT REALIZE IT. But also. I love the angst. And I kinda want Kate to visit with Simon as he's buried alive. Because how fucking horrifying????? And his fear/panic is so great that it yanks her consciousness to him. Maybe this is before they are born as a cluster? But the trauma is so great that Simon's brain is reaching and reaching and reaching for the connections that should be there!!! And Kate is the closest geographically.

nooo no this is really interesting. i think the trauma could trigger the birth of the cluster, OR, Kate and Simon are kind of like...preemies? They can sort of sense each other but their sensate biology isn't fully developed so it's a very incomplete form of visiting/sharing (it would be interesting if trauma is why their cluster is all different ages? like they were all supposed to be in DIFFERENT clusters. Simon and Kate would have had the same cluster "parent" and the rest of the 141 would have been in separate clusters but trauma+proximity made those connections form with each other? Near death experiences? I'm thinking about when Gaz falls out of the helicopter. The sensate part of his brain is like FUCK I NEED CONNECTION and Simon's sensate brain is all untethered and goes oh HELL yes, FINALLY, cluster here we come! (sensate scientists are fucking feral over this cluster and the IMPLICATIONS )

BUT ANYWAY

simon is just like "sometimes I hallucinate a woman, it's a trauma response"

Gaz: huh weird me too sometimes. First I was freaked out, you know? But then I got used to her

Soap, joking: she's not American, is she?

Gaz, Ghost, and Price turn as one to look at him.

Price: what

So THEN they all think they are having a shared hallucination. Is that something that can be spread? Ghost seems like patient zero but he never said anything about her til now???

Naturally Kate chooses this moment to bebop in. "So I'm a shared hallucination? I don't feel like a hallucination." "How would you know?" Soap points out. "You've got me there. Counterpoint: Why would you create a hallucination that is American?" The four men lean back. Which. Well. "I mean, me hallucinating four hot British guys? Believable. Four hot British guys hallucinating me? Not so much." "You think I'm hot?" Soap says. They ignore him. "You're saying we are the hallucinations," Ghost says flatly. "Or, get this," she says. "None of us are hallucinations." Gaz makes a disbelieving hum. "Okay fine. Easy test." She sticks out her hand, palm up, wiggling her fingers. "Someone give me a phone." After some hesitation, Price pulls his out and slaps it into her hand-her oddly solid hand. She taps the screen for a few seconds before handing it back. "Okay, call me." "What?" "I put my number in. Call me," she repeats then disappears. "Cap, "Gaz says when he finds his voice. "Did that hallucination just put a number in your phone?" "Oh, thank Christ," Soap interjects. "I'm not the only one who saw her." Price looks down at the phone in his hand before answering Gaz. "Appears so." "You gonna do it?" Soap bounces of the sofa. "'Spose it could be a detonator. You call it, something explodes." (Kate, appearing on the sofa next to Soap: oh, PLOT TWIST! I didn't do that, though. Don't know how to. Do you know how to do that? Soap: yes!!! Kate: omg can you teach me? Soap: YES :DDDD loml i will teach you how to make SO many things explode) Ghost kicks him. Gaz tugs the device out of Price's hand. "Video call," he says decisively. Price hits call. It rings. It rings It-- A man's face fills the screen. He's familiar. He is not, however, hallucination woman. "Clinty-boo, can you tell me what you see on my phone?" "What?" "Just tell me what you see.' "Three very confused dudes and someone in a mask, who could be confused and a dude, I just can't tell for sure." "Cool, thanks!" The familiar voice chirps before a familiar face fills the screen. "See?" she says, proud. "None of us are hallucinations. Yay!"

Ok for some reason I see Kate in Egypt doing something slightly sketchy to get info on Rama tut with Marc Spector and Layla El Faouly and she is like "can you see those creepy British guys?" (They cannot) Kate says something about how they are glaring at her and saying they're a 4 hour flight from her, she better not be doing anything illegal, yada yada, they keep following her around or vice versa??? And Marc, apropos of nothing, says, "Yeah, they're your cluster."

"Of what???"

"Fellow sensates. You're sensates."

WhAT

(idk i just liked the idea of Marc being like oh yeah nbd. and kate is like no no i think it's a VERY bd. also Marc knows Ghost.)

when kate visits them she koalas on to one of them. they're so used to it that when they meet in person Soap just carries her around because she's not supposed to walk!!!!

when they visit her Gaz is the one constantly touching her, always has an arm around her. always shows up when she starts to get irritated at her PI work

Her sleep schedule is super fucked because Ghost (NEVER asks her to) sleeps better if she is visiting him. since she has a more flexible schedule (aka is not in the military) she'll stay up late and take naps at random times during the day so Ghost can get some sleepy snuggles companionship to help him drift off

price will visit when she's strategizing to offer helpful advice. gives her scalp massages when the young avengers are on her last damn nerve.

ok i've been sitting on this for a while so i'm gonna stop here!! i love this idea

[its-a-me-mango]

Hey Mango!

I have two questions

*turns into an interviewer*

Is Mango your sona and if he is, how did you choose him? Does he have lore?

-someone who really struggles with their sona

Og my god an interview, hey mum look I'm being interviewed!!!

Yes Mango is my sona! He's my SMG4 Sona, so I have other sonas that I use for non SMG4 stuff but he's the only one I use for here! My main sona is a horse demon lol.

When it comes to why I made him, I wanted someone different to use for SMG4 content because when I first got into it, I kinda didn't want anyone to know I liked SMG4 lol. Idk it felt way too cringy to me as a 25 year old being into funny online Mario show so I wanted something different that I could make a separate space with. Now I don't care lol I got over that anxiety real quick, but I still kept Mango because I like him a lot!

Designing him was easy, I just took a character that could fit in the SMG4 universe that I like and can easily project onto (Dr Mario) and I just played around with that until I got Mango! There was a lot of just picking out things I like and smashing it onto him, sonas don't have to have super deep meaning or anything, they can be as simple as making a design with things you like in it.

Designing sonas is a lot easier if you have some kind of "base" to work with, I think kinsonas and inspired designs are so cool I love seeing how people remake a character into their own, its so awesome. I know it's not for everyone but I think it's epic, there's so much to be inspired by and work from in the SMG4 universe so going wild with it is great fun!

Mango does have lore, I made it up after I made him, I designed him first as a MLP hybrid and then I had to figure out how he became one, was a lot of work lol.

His very basic lore is that he comes from a universe where MLP is brought into the real world, however people can't be normal around the ponies so doctors around the world are tasked with creating a "cure" to make people behave around them. Anyway Mangos one of them but he fucks it up and gets turned into a MLP hybrid. He gets his medical license revoked, gets expelled from society and ends up being taken by the government to keep him contained alongside the other MLP ponies. They experiment on him a lot and all that fun stuff but he's besties with all the ponies in there so who cares, then one day he suddenly gets teleported to the SMG4 universe where he gets his license back and now works as a doctor in the SMG4 universe!

See, character lore can be whatever the fuck you want it to be, I wanted Mangos to be just as dumb and over the top as him, its important.

If you're struggling to design a sona, I guess my only advice is just make something you like! There's no limit on how many sonas you can have so you can spread around your interests and likes across multiple characters. They don't have to be wild and exciting or have deep intricate lore or anything like that, they're just whatever you use to represent yourself, just start with something you like and go from there!

Enjoy my rambling, my brain is a pile of slime rn :3

[partyanimal167]

Never a Shortage PT 2- Miguel x F!Reader

Chapter Two: Too Old to Make the Same Mistakes

The voting was SUPER close with this chapter, but I'm excited to indulge into my salt-n-pepper Miguel fantasies. Low key at work, there's an older guy who looks almost how I imagine old man Miguel to look (like 60). We're shooting for like mid 40s with this one (not that that's old), but reader is def older than 21 so

Any way! Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy~

PT 1

CW: SMUT, mdni, black fem reader in mind, older!Miguel variant, mild cussing, dirty talk, jealousy trope (not crazy toxic), praise kink, age gap, almost bed breaking sex, brat taming, author knows some Spanish

Life had a funny way about making things work out even when it seems like it isn't. You had the plan , but duty still called. However, maybe by the grace of the universe and LYLA, things could work in your favor.

In the moment was the idea to prove to Miguel that you had plenty of options great? Yes! However, you were now pondering how that was going to even happen when things in the Spider Society had been so busy that you and Miguel only had time to brief missions and work.

Boo! Work! Potato!

Things had gotten like this before, but that was when canon events and universes were at stake. This just seemed like an uptick in anomalies and necessary research. Which, hey, is not as stressful, so there's that. But you had fun to plan.

Things had finally been quiet for a couple days when your gizmo (watch) went off and Lyla popped up.

"Hey girl hey~" You could never truly be mad when she sounded like that. You stayed slumped in your bed and threw up a peace sign. "Wow totally unenthusiastic."

You laughed as you sat up and gave her more of your attention. "My bad. You know I've been running around everywhere." you sighed. "Don't tell me there's an anomaly here. Please, I'll cry."

Lyla's face glitched into a laughing emoji before she waved her hand while giggling. "No, silly! Pierre on Earth-161 needs some assistance on a recon mission. It's just some fancy party, but he'll need some close support if things don't go well."

It seemed easy enough, so you nodded along. "Miguel's sending me?"

Lyla popped her gum before shaking her head. "Nuh uh, he actually went home for once, so I'm just helping with the little tasks. Hopefully, he can get some rest. He was being a bit grumpy--well more than usual." You hummed as your brain was starting to roll with ideas. "Anyway, I'll send you some information while you rest. Party's tomorrow. Bye~"

You laid back down once Lyla was gone. You hadn't gone on many missions with Pierre, but he seemed like the strong, silent type. He mainly nodded and worked without comments. It kinda reminded you of those silent films except there were no text cards to see what he says or thinks. However, you never really heard Miguel complain about him, so that was something.

Speaking of Miguel...

You were a bit stuck on how to poke back at him for his little comment. You weren't lying when you said there were definitely people willing and waiting to bed you (some even again), but for whatever reason, a piece of you wanted a bit of a chase, a thrill, something new it seemed. You briefly thought about flirting with Pierre, but while you are curious to see if it got a reaction, you didn't want to accidentally hurt the guy's feelings. Who knows how he'd react?

You groaned as you swiped through wardrobe suggestions Lyla sent over and let your mind drift off.

~~~

The night was smooth-sailing as you looked around the buzzing gala hall as people spoke amongst themselves while others danced.

The mission's setting was safe and secure. You knew that Lyla and Miguel did their best to avoid sending people to universes where they could easily run into and/or interact with that universe's variant. You knew that there were no canon events at risk on this mission, but Lyla assured you that seeing another you wouldn't occur. It did bum you out though sometimes. It was nice to see the other versions and traits of a person. How were they living elsewhere? Did they pursue a dream that another had given up for something else? It seemed that the paths of life were literally endless.

For now though, you just surveyed the area while Pierre swept the building in search for some files and data. You sat pretty in a strapless navy blue dress with white fingerless evening gloves and gold accents from your earrings and necklace and hair pinned up. You weren't really a fan of dressing up, but it was nice to play the part once in a while. You also didn't mind the fun, consequenceless flirting with people who stopped to talk to you. You easily gave a fake name and believable backstory. The night was turning out to be more fun than work, and you wouldn't complain.

You glanced at your phone and saw a message from Pierre saying that he was transferring a large amount of digital wares to his base and it would take a decent amount of time. You chuckled that he texted; even earlier, he had only quietly thanked you after you confirmed the details with Lyla.

A server walked by with a tray of champagne, so you decided to take one and head outside for some fresh air.

The moonlight was bright with clear skies above. You hummed quietly to the distant music from inside and relaxed. Your body swayed along as you listened and melted into the moment. These moments were always nice to get lost into.

Suddenly, that familiar tingly flashed too late, but you barely gasped when large hands held your hips and your back met the hard chiseled chest of the stranger behind you.

"Ah, you're usually so much easier to scare. I must have lost my touch with time." the voice rumbled through you--deep and husky, but a light playfulness that made your heart skip and brain pause for a moment.

You decided to play innocent instead of going into fight mode. After all, this was a simple mix up. You weren't from here. You didn't turn towards the man but giggled sweetly in your hand. "Uh sorry, I think you might have the wrong person sir." You turned then and were surprised by the sight seemingly as much as the man was with you.

This was definitely Miguel O'Hara, but not the stressed out, authoritative boss of Spider Society. This man was an older version--modest sections of gray hair and a charm in his eye that came with time. He was still fit and large, but there was some taut skin that highlighted full veins on his neck and hands. There was a deeper set of brown in his complexion from years in the sun, soft lines around his mouth and eyes. You blinked a couple times seeming to want to capture this appearance permanently in your mind.

The gentleman spoke first. "Mi querida, you're so young."

The softness in his eyes and tenderness in his voice caused your brain to pause. It was very...sweet. You had those moments with Miguel of course, in the after glow. But the man seemed as if he would build the world from scratch for you. Fight battles for you. Destroy and create life for you.

It was shocking.

So you quickly turned away and ran.

It wasn't your best moment, but you made it back into the crowd before the man could stop you. You were thankful that you could walk comfortably enough in these shoes to get away. This wasn't really the place to shoot off a web and fling into the air. For a moment, you thought about calling Lyla to see if you could cut your mission short, but maybe you were being dramatic. Nothing was disrupted, and you got away. If you were lucky, this Miguel was just your average citizen.

You made your way to a secluded area of the building where small groups of people chatted quietly and took a breather from the fun. You stood by a pillar that faced one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and let out a deep breath. For now, all you needed to do was keep a low profile until Pierre finished up.

That tingly feeling again appeared; your eyes flashed open when a large presence blocked out the moonlight and loomed over you. Two arms caged you in, and you squeaked in response to the seeming growl that emitted.

"Amor, you should know better than to run from a retired leader of the Spider-Force." he looked down at you amused. It was just your luck--an older, wiser Spider-Man of course. Wait! Why didn't Pierre tell you anything? You were so going to cuss that sneaky quiet man out later. You pressed a little more against the pillar and felt the stone slightly give from your unrestrained strength. The man grinned. "So what game are we playing now? Is someone trying to tempt me with delusions? A clone from the past?"

And even if those were apparently threats, you could tell that man didn't mind at all. Even from the way he eyed you in place felt full of confidence. Not quite the same as with the other "main" Miguel. This felt more like control and assurance than cockiness. If anything, you felt more captured than him.

"Uh, no, sir," your brain randomly landed on that term, "this is really all a big misunderstanding. Um, maybe Spider-Man, Pierre, can clear things up; I'm not who you think I am. I'm from-,"

"Oh jeez, please don't tell me this is related to that dimension-jumping shit. I told those young ones to focus on what's happening here." the man grunted as he leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked more annoyed than anything. You stayed pressed against the pillar unsure of how to proceed. He kissed his teeth before taking a look at you. "Excuse me," he held out his hand, "Miguel O'Hara--retired Spider-Man, decrepit geezer who now just gives back to the city and fusses at the new kids." his smile made your heart flutter.

You took his hand and shook it firmly. "I'm y/n, Spider-Woman to Earth 1019. Pleasure to meet you, sir." Miguel chuckled at you calling him that. "And well, I must say you're definitely not decrepit." Wait why did I say that?

"You're a Spider-Woman and a flirt now? And I thought I had you all figured out." he grinned. Your eyes flicked down to the canine that peeked before meeting his eyes.

Crisis averted, so you could at least relax a little. "Well I'm sure you know, but I'm not exactly the same as the...me who lives here. I'm sure there are things you don't know about me."

And for some reason, that felt like a challenge. "You sure, princessa? Maybe I know things about you that you haven't realized yet."

You huffed out a laugh. "Like what, sir?" It didn't surprise you that a Miguel seemed to think they had you figured out. It'd be fun to see even this one be shocked.

You gasped as your chin was tilted up, and that gentle calloused thumb rubbed your bottom lip fondly. Miguel rocked a little to the side as if examining you. The moonlight reflected and sparkled on some of his gray locks. You bit your cheek to stop from whimpering. "Well an easy one is that language kink of yours. Sabes que te puedo a decir las palabras todas a hacer te mojada." he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "And you only call me sir when you're being a brat, so maybe it's been awhile since you've been fucked properly." the moan slipped past your lips before you could even process it. "Mmm, so that's it. La princessita necesita mi boca a sentir bueno. Have you been a good girl? Maybe I can show you what you get when you behave."

It felt weird to be told about yourself. As much as you wanted to argue and fight it, the things he said felt too sure and real to ignore. Plus, your body made it very clear that he was telling the truth too. You hummed as you stick your tongue out and lick his thumb before nibbling. "You can try your best."

~~~

It was crazy; everything was crazy.

Nearly everywhere that handsome man touched felt as if it was on fire. Whatever challenge you threw his way, he eagerly matched it. You thought it'd be polite to warn him about your superhuman strength, but all Miguel did was chuckle and wink.

He was gentle with easing off your dress and mindful of your hair--all an illusion. Because as soon as your hands were on him, it seemed to have awaken something feral that was hidden beneath. You devoured the sight of brown skin with its own scars and stories of the past. The moon's glow made a nearly ethereal image which threatened your bratty nature.

And Miguel noticed it all. He pushed his soft hair back before reaching down to removing your heels. He knelt down at the bed before kissing at your ankles and caressing your calves.

"You look good down there." you taunted before gasping into a moan after a sweet spot of yours was nibbled.

"Behave," was all that was said before Miguel continued to kiss and lick up for legs. He fawned over your thighs and mumbled to himself. "La reina de mi sueno, you look so delicious." And you couldn't hide the shiver that went down even if you wanted to. "Mmm, I know mami, thanks for my meal." And the man tore off your lace before beginning to devour you messily.

You immediately begun to thrash and shake a bit, but your body seemed to barely move with how easily this Miguel held you and kept you connected to his mouth and tongue despite your best attempts. You moans bounced off the walls and grew once Miguel so graciously gave you a thick finger to stretch you out. You bit your lip and threw an arm over your eyes feeling that rare shyness make an appearance.

That earned you a slap on your thigh. "Ah ah, no you don't. I get to see how you feel pretty girl. Keep those eyes on me." And you so obediently listened.

Miguel continued. His tongue traced over your clit and sucked at your lips. He built more of a rhythm and fucked his fingers deeper inside. You didn't care about being loud anymore. The room was far away from the festivities any way. You groaned and held on tight to the man's shoulder and nearly anywhere you could get your hands on.

Soon, your orgasm was approaching; you chocked on your whines and sobs not even being able to hold out longer as Miguel sped up. "Come on my face reina, give it to me." The order was simple, and your body listened. You gasped as you gushed and clenched on Miguel's fingers. You nearly whimpered as he continued through your high, but you didn't want to fight. Even as it felt nearly too much, you still wanted more.

Your chest heaved up and down trying to get air in your lungs. Your mind was fuzzy, and you could barely make out that that slick that decorated Miguel's handsome mug. There was that cocky expression. "Aww bebita, I haven't even fucked you dumb yet." And if it was even possible, you felt wetter. You made a half-assed attempt to turnover, but a lazy flick of the wrist kept you on your back and looking up at this handsome man. Miguel simply kissed his teeth at you. "No, no. You don't get to hide from me. I wanna see those pretty tears, reina." He brought one of your ankles up and rested in his shoulder. He gave it a light peck. "Been dreaming of wrecking you for years."

And even though, you knew he didn't really mean you, you couldn't help the shiver that shot through or the whimper from your throat. "Fuck me sir...please."

And Miguel's grin in response was nearly feral. "Good girl."

It seemed as though both Miguels' knew that you could handle a bit of teasing. This one rubbed his tip on your clit and only chuckled as you whined and shifted--though his tight grip on your hips let you know that he could handle all that power you kept control. Whether you were super strong or not, Miguel could keep up and more.

A complaint was just on the tip of your tongue before you gasped at the sudden full penetration that made you melt. His member was in deep and pushed against your soft soaked walls. You groaned aloud and immediately went to grip on the headboard. The needy, lustful gloss in your eyes made Miguel fill with pride. "Hehe, don't go breaking my things, reina." And with that, he started a full and steady pace that had you split between losing yourself and minding how you only aided in the bed's abuse. Then, he started speaking again. "Damn, you feel so fucking good." and if you paid more attention, you'd notice how the sweat had Miguel glowing and how his hair flowed a bit more into his face. He was groaning and panting with how delicious you smelled and the softness yet fire in your eyes. Miguel knew he was whipped from the moment he met your variant all those years ago, but seeing you like this just like when you two met had him nearly blushing and busting from fulfilling that secretive long-time fantasy.

Those deep strokes continued as Miguel leaned forward and hungrily captured your lips. You were gone at this point. It was too much; everything was burning, yet you still wanted to keep going. Your eyes glossed with tears once Miguel started hitting your g-spot over and over. There wasn't enough air in your lungs as you panted and moaned feeling something give a little under the weight of your hand. You were clueless as Miguel brought your hand into his while the other started playing with your clit. He growled in your ear.

"Naughty girl, you're starting to break the bed," but he didn't sound upset at all, "maybe next time I'll web you up." He kissed right below your ear. "Mmm, but you're a strong girl. I'll keep you nice and cozy and bound. You don't get to escape me." He took in your hazy expression and bit his lip. So beautiful. "Now, let me feel how this pussy cums on my dick," he huffed and panted "now reina."

And you barely let out the broken cries of his name as you came and felt such a stretched out orgasm. You were floating yet sinking at the same time. You hummed and moaned as you came down and barely heard the praises or felt the gentle rubs in your hair.

"Good girl. Now's time for round two."

~~~

You sat blushing as you peered over the unfamiliarity skyline and sipped your tea. The warmth of the cotton robe was enough to keep you comfortable, but your heart occasionally skipped a beat when you caught the broken bed that was favoring one side. (Definitely not your fault).

You also pondered what you were going to say to Pierre once you saw him. In the heat of your...side quest, the man had reached out letting you know he was done. However, he sent a message thanking you once he didn't get a reply after thirty minutes. You couldn't remember if your gizmos were connected, but you hadn't been woken up by an irritated call from boss-Miguel, so hopefully Pierre had your back in the end. I'll need to get him a little gift or something...I'll ask Lyla what he likes.

A large hand pressed into a sore spot in your shoulder, and you were reminded of the exact events that lead to your..side quest. You couldn't totally feel bad. You got a good look as this Miguel took a seat across from you with his own mug. The soft sunlight was warm against his skin; he certainly looked gentler than last night.

"Sorry if I kept you from your mission. That definitely wasn't...professional of me." He chuckled lightly and even seemed a bit shy from the night's events. It was cute.

You smiled and shook your head. "Ah no worries. I wasn't really needed any way." You leaned forward and placed a kiss on the man's black and gray stubble. "It was fun."

The man took your hand and pecked it. "It was."

You two sat in a comfortable silence for a while before your thoughts kept poking at you and you finally gave in. "Well I do wanna know, uh, well. I mean I'm not complaining. Last night was great. And I'm sure you're attracted to me, but why-"

Miguel's hearty chuckle cut you off, and you awaited eagerly. "Why am I not with this earth's version of you?" He smiled softly and you peered a little to see the soft blush poke from under the stubble. "I just get incredible shy when I look at you, her. She's seen me through all my mess and problems. I could never do anything to lose her. She's...precious." you blinked for a moment before giggling lightly. "Nena, behave."

You smiled and waved your hand. "No, I'm not laughing at you! It's just so sweet." You hummed and stood to stretch. "I mean, you certainly care for her, and if she's been single for awhile, then who knows? You'll be a lucky man."

There was a sparkle in Miguel's eyes as he looked at you fondly. "Maybe you're right. Do you think Miguels and yous are meant to be?"

Miguel was amused by the pout on your gave after that question. "Eh, I don't know. The Miguel I deal with on the regular is an asshole. He just doesn't realize what a catch I am." You then posed.

The older man laughed fully before winking. "Well shame on him. I'll be around if you ever need a reminder." And there was a flash of hunger in his eyes.

Your face warmed up and you turned off to the side. "I will need your dimensional number if you have one...to send you some money for the bed."

"Haha, nonsense. It'll get replaced soon and it'll be a good reminder. I've got some work to do." He paused and your gazes met again. "Besides, I hope you don't mind, but I put it in there already--under my name and everything." You were about to point out the obvious problem with that, but Miguel had it covered. "Trust me, you'll know it's me." You hummed in response.

After trying to tidying up and some light conversation, you two Spiders said goodbye, and you opened a portal to your room.

You flopped on your bed and sighed deeply. That was surely not how you expected your night to go, but damn if it wasn't amazing either. You decided to check in with HQ later since it was still a bit early in the day. You'd at least reach out to Pierre for sure though.

The morning went on with you swiping at your phone and reading random stories when a notification popped up on your screen.

Sexy Señor Papi Miguel: Stay in touch, reina 😉

You laughed loudly before humming and replying. He was definitely a sexy Miguel, but corny like an old man too.

~~~~

Whew! I'm actually proud of this chapter. Smut takes me forever to write bc I get in my head about it 😅🙃

I think I have an idea for the next chapter, but feel free to drop some ideas here or in my dms. I'm gonna try my best to get it out before my vacation ends 🙏🏾

Thanks for reading!!!

Taglist: @sukunash0e @jinnieminniemoon @turtlegreentia

[notoneopinion]

10 Ways I Soothe Anxiety

Hello. I have anxiety.

I have anxiety, but I have also managed to somehow keep a pretty good life for myself through it all. Getting out of bed when you have a paralysing fear of the world is not an easy task, but there are a few things I have found that make it that little bit easier, life that little bit smoother. And because we certainly don't gatekeep here, I thought I'd share the ten main ways I soothe anxiety. Basically, ten things I do to switch off and remove myself from my brain.

1. Turn your phone off.

An obvious one, but probably one of the most important. It's insane how clogged a person's brain will get when they spend their day glued to a phone screen. For me, it's not even just social media that sets me off, though that is a massive trigger for me and many other people; it's the phone in general. I could be playing Angry Birds for twenty-four hours and still finish the day feeling gross and anxious and guilty. The screen itself just makes me feel groggy, which in turn leaves me feeling anxious by the time I'm getting into bed that night. There are some days I will wake up, and just turn my phone off completely - usually days when I know I'm going to be at home all day, but still. That extended break from screen time is a life saver.

2. Fidget toys.

Okay, so I may also have autism.

But!!!! Fidget toys are miracle workers for all kinds of mental illnesses and uncomfortable feelings, so don't think you can't invest in some just because you're not on the spectrum. Fidget toys are literally made to soothe anxiety, so get yourself some!! I have one called a Tangle that I keep on me at all times, and I just mess with it in my pocket when I'm in a social situation and I don't know what to do with my hands, or I start feeling a little overwhelmed. It brings my fight or flight right down. I don't know the science behind it, but I honestly don't even care. Give me fidget toys, or give me death.

3. Model making, eg Legos, 3D puzzles.

Legos and 3D puzzles are another thing that has changed the game for me when it comes to anxiety. Like fidget toys, they are the perfect way to keep your hands busy, but they have the added bonus of keeping your mind busy, too. These are, of course, more of a relaxation technique, something you come home to after a stressful day rather than something to eliminate anxiety on the spot, but we'll take what we can get. These also keep you relaxed and distracted for hours, because there is hours worth of work to be put into them. Plus, they're very addictive - once you start on a Lego set, or a puzzle, you don't want to stop until it's finished. I've sat for eleven hours straight doing a Lego set just because I wanted to see the finished product as soon as possible, and during those eleven hours, my anxiety was non-existent. I was just enjoying myself the entire time.

4. Have a nap.

Very self explanatory, and yet controversial???

But genuinely, just go to sleep??? If you're having a gruesome day, and your mind is bullying you, and you're exhausted, just lay down and go to sleep. Fuck what other people say. There is nothing wrong with clocking out from the horrors of the real world for a few hours. As long as you get back up, all refreshed and ready to tackle another day, who cares??

5. Talk to a loved one.

I am very blessed that I can put this on the list. I know this can be a very difficult coping mechanism for a lot of people - trust me, I know. Growing up, my anxiety was my own, and not once did it ever occur to me to share that problem with anyone else. However, after meeting the right people, and understanding that nobody is going to be annoyed about hearing my problems, talking to people became one of the best and most useful coping mechanisms I've got. It can be as simple as sending your best friend a text telling them how you're feeling, or you can go all out and sit your Mum down with a cup of tea and bawl your eyes out. Getting those feelings out will give you a physical relief as well as a mental relief; the weight you've been carrying, a weight you probably don't even notice any more, will be gone in a matter of minutes. I promise you.

6. Exercise.

I know. I was shocked too. All those scientists that told us exercise and moving your body is good for your mental health were right. Bastards.

Just go on a walk. That's what I mean when I say 'exercise.' If you want to go to the gym and lift weights, or run a marathon, you go right ahead. More power to you. But by 'exercise' I just mean. . . move your body. Take the dog on a walk! Walk to the shop instead of driving! Get a bike! The tiniest bit of movement in a day can do wonders, whether we want to admit it or not.

7. Blast happy, sing-in-the-car music.

There's a playlist of Spotify that I highly recommend when it comes to wanting to escape reality and just have a good time. It's literally called Songs to Sing in the Car, and it's one of those playlists Spotify make themselves, just full of songs that you can sing at the top of your lungs, or blast through your headphones, and just have a real good time for a little while. I know it's easy sometimes to just go straight to that playlist full of sad songs that you can relate to in that moment, but try and go for a different approach - go find old bangers that you used to jump around to as a kid. It's a breath of fresh air.

8. Do chores.

Two in one baby!

A good chunk of the time, our anxiety is stemming from our to-do list, even if we're not thinking about it. All around us is evidence of all the unfinished tasks we've got to do, and that can really stress you out. Personally, whenever I'm anxious, I become almost camotose; I will just sit on the sofa and stare at the wall, feeling everything all at once. However, I've found that using this time to do little tasks around the house actually makes me feel better. I'm not saying I go and do a full massive clean; I might push myself just a bit to wash one or two dishes, or the whole sink if I can manage it. I'll hoover the living room floor. I'll go upstairs and put my clothes away. Just tiny jobs, only as much as I can push myself to do. A lot of the time, one job turns into two, and then two turns to three, and soon my house is spotless, and you know what they say - clean space, clear mind!

9. Take up knitting/ crocheting.

This one is pretty self-explanatory. I only discovered this as a coping mechanism when I was suffering from really bad insomnia and I couldn't sleep; I somehow found myself watching YouTube tutorials on knitting, and I was overcome with this intense urge to learn. It was literally one in the morning, and I drove to my Mum's house (dragged my fiance out of bed to come with me, too, sorry babe <3) and grabbed knitting needles and some yarn. I was up knitting for about an hour, and I felt so relaxed that I actually managed to go to sleep! For the first time in days! So not only can you make really cute clothes and nick-nacks and learn a new skill, you're also relaxing that anxious brain of yours for a little bit.

10. Have a good cry.

Yeah. Just this.

[tea-and-secrets]

I'm 5 days sober and I've only told one person because im afraid of creating expectations that I may fail to live up to. this happens with everything in my life, I'm so afraid of being a failure. I'm a 20 year old that burned out at 14 and it makes me feel sick to my stomach that I may never live a normal life. there's nothing I want more than to be like my mother and feel fulfilled in a shit paying job with no benefits and crazy hours, but I'm a pessimist born and raised by loneliness (because of my mom's previously mentioned crazy work hours)

I'm in therapy since I was 14 but it hasn't helped me up yet, and I'm losing patience with the process of healing, because I feel like we don't have much time left on this boiling planet (don't fucking accuse me of doomerism until you spent three weeks struggling with 40+ degree celsius heat while the sky is iphone gray and the sun is doomsday red due to the smoke of your country's criminally burning flora) but I don't want to spend however much time that is while high and numb to it all.

Well... I'm not actually sure about that last part yet. The numbness was good, it made my life feel fulfilling by getting through small victories while avoiding the disgrace of the world, the inherent violence of it all. Now I feel only mildly pleased by any task I complete (just because its "one less thing") and I have anxiety attacks every other day due to the state of my life and the world and my personality and my issues.

And the worst part? It's fully a me-problem, apparently. Everyone else can ignore it, shut off all the noise, while my brain dances around and spirals into every disaster. How can a piece of meat with electricity inside it self-flagellate?

oh, fun fact. did you know flagellate, other than meaning to punish yourself or others with a whip, is also the name of a cell or organism with whip like appendages? just looked that shit up thats cool.

um, I'm sorry if this ask was sort of heavy. this isn't an "I'm in danger" sort of thing, I feel stable for the most part. Im just grappling with the forces. but it has to get better, it has to, because getting worse would just be too predictable. it has to get better, because the easy answer isn't always the correct one. it has to get better because no one's proved it won't. it has to get better because it's gotten better before.

<3

[azureblues08]

Guys, I had an idea about Valen's son, but now it feels like I'm dumping angst on first The Father: Valen and now the Son 😭

What if the reason why the son died is not only fighting in battle but because he was mistaken for his Father. . .

LISTEN THIS IS A WHAT IF SITUATION-

LIKE IMAGINE:

You're the son of a Commander who's admired by all for his talents, personality, and being the leader of the Night Sentinels. You look up to him so much since you were young, you want to be just as great as him.

Soon, you ask your father to train you to join the Night Sentinels, while he does warn that it’s not an easy task and won't go easy on you just because you're his son. You were still determined to learn and become one; you even swore to him that you would not slack off & let your father punish you if you did.

Seeing that you were very determined, Your Father agreed.

Soon years gone by, you're part of the sentinel army, recognized and respected by your peers

Even your father smiles upon you, reminiscing about the young boy with big dreams, who is now a determined warrior who's protecting the Kingdom of Argent D'Nur.

However, the peace of the kingdom will come to an end once the demonic invasion reaches Agent D'Nur. . .

Now you are fighting on the battlefield of the Civil War, where half of your comrades are dead or turned into traitors. You lost your helmet as you fought too.

Now you try to find and assist what was left of the loyalist army, you find one that's injured! But before you can reach them, you are knocked down by a traitor Night Sentinel, then struck a sword into your skull.

And the Last thing you heard was

"The Khan Maykr has a use for you Commander Valen. . ."

The rest of the words are muffled to your ears as your brain dies, yet see your perpetrator get struck down by a figure you bearly make out. . .

Only once you feel the sword pulled out, your whole body gripped tightly by said figure.

You knew it was your father, a step too late, but you hoped that your father will be alright, that the Khan Maykr won't force your father to become one of their puppets. . .

[The End]

Note: I Headcannon that his Son was killed during the Civil War of Argent D'Nur. It makes sense to me somehow :^

[paper--moons]

Regressor!Gentle Criminal Headcanons

(with cg!La Brava)

A lot of Danjuro's motivation for his goals can be attributed to a deep-seated desire to be wanted and loved. To find a way to earn those things, because for him they never seemed to come naturally. As a child he decided he wanted to be a hero because he saw the way his parents' eyes lit up when looking at them, how they praised them (things they never did for him the older he got because he always, always managed to mess things up somehow). And when that path didn't pan out no matter how persistent he was, no matter how much he wanted to help, well...there were other ways to make his mark and fill that void inside of him. Heroes need villains, right? He would be filling an important role and bringing attention to a lot of issues in society! People would surely come around. So it isn't really much of a surprise that his regression presents itself due to the same underlying issues and insecurities. Right when he's trying his hardest to get his life turned around to where he wants to be, a tiny mistake sends him over the edge. It should be nothing—by all accounts is nothing—but making tea is a simple task that he's supposed to be good at and now he's gone and burned his fingers and, and... And he's sticking his fingers in his mouth to soothe the owwie away like he's done a million times before for things like burns or cuts, but this time is different because something just...clicks. The childish habit feels like it's leaking into the rest of his brain, enveloping his entire body in a comforting warmth as he realizes that if he was younger, then it would be okay, wouldn't it? To make mistakes? Back then his mistakes could be overlooked because he was small and still learning. Maybe...maybe he can pretend for a little while. Even if it feels less like pretending than he thinks it should. What Danjuro does know is that it feels good. It feels easy.

After his first slip, Danjuro tries to recapture that feeling any way he can think of, all while trying to put together his Gentle Criminal persona. Even after he came back to himself that first time, things had continued to feel lighter for a little while. Though he finds that he's experiencing everything from involuntary regression to voluntary regression the more effort he puts in to triggering it. Moreover, it isn't as consistent or predictable as he would like for it to be. He thinks surely another injury or another mistake would make him slip since that was what caused it the first time, but that turns out to be a toss up. Even purposefully doing activities geared more towards children—a stroke of genius that he is certain will lure out the little boy in his psyche—is another hit and miss. Trying to sort out what works best for him (and what to avoid) inevitably leads to him both age dreaming and age regressing—there's a few subtle differences as far as he can tell, at least in his particular case. It's a wishy-washy line for him, but he figures out that the main difference between the two is his age. Or at least that's what conclusion he comes to, based on the fact that if he's age dreaming he can still do plenty of big kid things for himself (even if he does them poorly). So he estimates his dreaming age to be somewhere around six or seven, while his regressing age is closer to three or four. Once he eventually manages to sort out more reliable ways to age regress however, he still can't help but age dream from time to time as well. Because if doing both helps him, then why not do both?

He has regressed in public before and will do it again, whether he wants to or not. Specifically, he is highly prone to regressing in the second-hand store he frequents. There's nothing new about going to these sorts of shops, as his funds have never been exactly stable after being kicked out striking out on his own, but rather there's something new about him. It doesn't matter how big he is feeling that day either, or when he last regressed. Because without fail, by the time he goes to pass the children's section his chest starts feeling tight and his head starts feeling like it's full of stuffing. It's impossible to stop himself from making a detour and browsing the toys. Danjuro is practically running on some sort of wobbly autopilot as he reaches out for one of the teddy bears staring up at him from the shelves, all plush fur and button eyes and practically begging for a hug. A voice in the back of his mind telling him that this poor little fellow has been tossed out and abandoned, forgotten. He can't just leave them here! And so Danjuro finds himself scraping together what change he has left (maybe even putting something back he needs more) to try and bring home as many teddies as he possibly can at the end of each week. It's his personal teddy rescue mission, and the beginning of his teddy bear collection; other stuffies are of course more than welcome to come home with him, but the classic teddy is his favorite. The fact that his shopping cart is comprised of mostly his newfound friends shouldn't tip anyone off, he thinks—although the way he takes longer to count out his yen might, counting out on his fingers yet still needing the help of the elderly woman that runs the place to help him reach the correct amount with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

Now, it may come to absolutely no one's surprise but this thing is a tea party fiend. If he's having a small day, there's about a ninety percent chance that there will be a tea party at some point amongst his many make-em-ups. Danjuro gets very into his pretend play and treats it quite seriously, with tea parties being no exception to this rule. All of his teddies have a specific seating arrangement that is liable to change depending on the current teddy bear drama (Snuggles is still not speaking to Daisy at the moment and they have to sit with several bears between them, a bearrier if you will, or there will be problems by the time Danjuro is offering all the bears another cup). There is also a set menu for these little parties too, which is subject to change depending on whether or not he's dreaming or regressing. If he's age dreaming, then he's making little sandwiches cut into triangles accompanied by a floral green tea blend. However if he's age regressing, then he has to go a little simpler. Simpler of course referring to opening a box of lemon cookies that he carefully sets onto the little saucers served with whichever bottle of juice is easiest for him to get open. Both menus are equally good and tasty if you ask him, and he's certainly had no complaints from the bears...but sometimes Danjuro wishes he had someone else to help with all the grown-up parts about setting up and to share his snacks with. Tea parties are all about "the more the merrier" after all, and it would be nice to have someone besides his bears to talk to (as they most often derail the childish worries he is trying to express with their teddy bear drama that is honestly getting a little too complicated for him to keep up with).

Eventually he is no longer alone, of course! But that doesn't mean he immediately tells his new house guest about the smaller parts of himself. Manami is absolutely wonderful and already helping him out more than he could even begin to describe; Danjuro doesn't want to scare her away by being too much, not when she's the first person that seems to understand him. They click surprisingly well, almost as if they've always known each other. So it really should come as no surprise that when she does inevitably catch him on one of his small days that she isn't bothered by it. Danjuro thought it would be best to just ignore all of that once Manami quite literally showed up on his doorstep, and instead focus on further developing his life as Gentle Criminal. But repressing that healthy coping mechanism that he's come to rely on so much is far from a long term solution. Especially when he keeps slipping in little ways. Little ways that Manami, ever observant, picks up on. And not only does she pick up on these small slip-ups, but she always seems to respond in a way that makes it so incredibly hard for him not to slip further. Forever acting as compliments to one another, it's only natural that his regression would be matched by her caregiving. Her heart is so big and she only wants to help! So what if he needs more help than other people? It isn't a big deal. The small gestures that she doesn't even think about—like reaching out to dab his face with a napkin after lunch when he's gotten a little messy, or covering him up when he falls asleep at his desk—leave him in a tizzy. So when he finally can't keep it bottled up any longer, it isn't hard to just...let her find out. They're comfortable enough with one another by that point that Manami doesn't even give a second thought to him shyly asking if she could help him with the tea, only asking him about the fuzzy friend he's got hugged to his chest.

Over time, he starts feeling a bit more bold about things with the bravado from his Gentle persona bleeding into his little mindset. This bravado primarily manifesting as energy and curiosity. Much like an overgrown puppy that's gotten off of its leash, a high energy baby spells trouble. Danjuro simply must do something or he'll die of boredom, and what he decides he must do is bounce. If he cannot find a bouncy castle then by God will he create one—while technically he could use Elasticity on the walls and floors of his entire room, he might get in trouble with his landlord (which a voice in the back of his head that sounds an awful lot like Manami tells him is a no-no). Although it turns out he can make his bed extra bouncy if he uses his quirk on it, and then really all he has to do is make a few other little jumping pads for himself out of some (again, quirk-altered) sofa cushions that he has carefully dragged from the living room and repositioned in his bedroom. It works out pretty well too, allowing him to bounce around his room to his heart's delight. Until he falls off and bumps his head, that is. Really, it was to be expected given that his coordination while he is feeling so small is lacking to put it nicely. Luckily the bump isn't too serious, but it does bring tears to his eyes as he hiccups because it's quite scary to fall! Just as Danjuro is starting to feel like the world truly hates him he hears the lock on his front door open with a click, which lets him know Manami is home and he suddenly remembers that he isn't supposed to use his quirk if he's little. Which in turn leads him to scrambling to hide the sofa cushions that won't go back to normal for a few hours yet, which results in him slipping and falling again only this time falling flat on his face. Manami is less worried about him breaking a rule and instead focuses her energy on fussing over him and making sure he didn't break his nose.

Danjuro is very sensitive to making any sort of mistake or having any sort of accident. This anxiety and panic that accompanies making a mistake only increases once Manami becomes his caregiver. Not because she is mean about it, because she's always so so patient with him (showing him more patience than he thinks he deserves). No, he worries because what if she decides he's so bad that she throws him away just like mommy did? Manami does her best to reassure him that nothing like that would ever happen no matter how badly he messed up, explaining that they can always make things better again together. Still, while her words are appreciated it's very different when he's all of three and he accidentally drops one of his nice teacups as she's handing it off to him. The sight of the shattered glass gives his complex about always screwing everything up all the permission it needs to sink its claws into his chest and make it hard to breathe. There's a long moment where it's hard to hear, hard to move, but he finds he's ushered to the couch and wrapped in a hug. It takes a few minutes of quietly soothing him and reminding him to take slow, deep breaths, but eventually he calms enough for her to get up to clean up the broken porcelain. Though first she makes sure to wind up the carousel music box for him and place it on the coffee table. The gentle, tinkling of the music box as it spins is enough to disguise the clinking of the porcelain being swept up, the moving pieces being followed by his gaze as he nurses a few digits. He wishes he could believe Manami when she says he doesn't make as many mistakes as he thinks. All Danjuro can really think about is how he will prove himself through the flawless actions of Gentle Criminal.

[cabinofimagines]

3. Will and the only Solace is killing myself

A/N: Someone had to take one for the team and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Jason -Asnyox & Danny

“This will be easy,” Will muttered to himself while making his way into Camp Jupiter, “Jason is no longer a praetor, so outside of saying hi to Bob I will be free to do what I want.” 

And then he wasn’t. The moment he set foot in camp half a dozen demigods surrounded him and started spouting questions and demanding he handed over the winter planning. 

“The what?” Will stammers.

A girl rolls her eyes. “The winter planning, Jason. You know that list you give us for the things we have to set up?”

Will feels his soul leave his body. Jason never mentioned being in charge of literally everything about the winter activities, but now that he thinks about it, wasn’t Jason something like a pope here? Something something pontifex, right? Yeah. Meaning, Will was screwed.

The Le-Gou-Lash Bash

Will 

Jason, you visually impaired idiot, did you forget to mention you plan all of the winter crap they do around here?

Jason

Oh

Will

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘OH’ JASON I’M ABOUT TO BE CRUCIFIED HERE

Magnus

Imma silence this chat for today I don’t want my appointments to get distracted by the buzzing

Will 

Appointments????

Magnus???

Jason

No I got this I think I kept last year’s winter planning back at my place

Will

I’m there right now i don’t see shit

Jason

should be right next to the nativity script

like a musty leather-bound notebook??

Will

Found it. Your murder has been postponed until further notice

Jason

Not if I can find the floor to knit to the death 101! Man this place has a crazy amount of floors yet i always end up in Magnus’s floor, so weird

Will 

WHY is the nativity script full of racial slurs???

Jason I’m reading the script

what the fuck

Listen I never met this god but this doesn’t sound very joyful and pure

they’re calling the wise wizards a bunch of WHAT??

Jason

Yeah that’s hilarious you can ignore that and write over it

Like a fanfic

We had the grinch added last time, remember?

Will

HOW??

i’m actually trying to forget easter because i value my life thank you for asking

Jason

Well maybe it’ll be harder for you i can just tune that stuff out nowadays

Will

You mean you’ve heard people talk like that??

Jason what??

JasonOh Alex is calling me, gotta dodge.

Jason stops answering, and Will hopes to the gods that he can find something like a tree decorating to the death and just… skip straight to the dying, too bad he wasn’t currently in Jason’s place in Valhalla. At least Jason must be having a worse time trying to stay alive, right? 

Alas, Will sighs as he realizes he has to leave the house to get this party going. Perhaps he can find any of the Bobs that he has to say hello to and make them help him, or maybe Hazel is just hanging around somewhere with good tips. Either way someone must be aware of how Jason usually handles these things- or how the previous years have worked out. Jason didn’t do all of it on his own, right? 

As he makes his way, Will spots Percy hastily crossing the street and half of his brain derails wondering why his friend looks so frantic. However, as Will is having his own breakdown, he decides to focus and move along. 

Percy too was having a breakdown. Firstly he somehow lost the reindeer, then apparently Klaus has had trouble getting the presents ready- there was no snow and Jason had yet to start decorating camp Jupiter! This was the absolute worst- how can he save Christmas when no one is in the spirit for it?  

You see, ever since Halloween Percy had decided to take as much work as possible of Klaus and Hearthstone’s hands- as clearly they were malnourished and stressed because of the melting North Pole. However, luckily, Klaus didn’t ask for funds to cool down the Pole, instead, he had Percy help with some tasks at hand. 

So as Percy was running around with 10 different ideas on how to make sure Christmas would still continue, his top priority was figuring out where the FUCK Jason went and where the people of Camp Jupiter kept their Christmas spirit hidden, would it be at Jason’s place? 

Will meanwhile had found Bob, the one with the elephants, currently on top of an elephant. “Jason says hi.” Will started and Bob just squinted at him.

“Are you not Jason?” he asked, “Sorry, I can’t see very well from up here.” 

Will grumbled, before speaking up. “Do you know how Jason planned Christmas around here?” he simply asked. “No, Jason was very strict on doing it all himself.”

“Why?”

“Something about keeping up the good work, I think he just used it as a way to ignore his other duties.” Of course Jason would not have taken any help. Will closed his eyes in pain— but this would be okay, he can fix this, this is less busy than, for example, the infirmary after capture the flag.

All he had to do was make a list, hand it out and everything would be done for him. He might even put his heritage to good use and rewrite their nativity play into something less problematic. Maybe. But, before Will decided to run off again, he turns to Jason’s good friend Bob.

“Hey, do you know where I can find the other Bobs? Jason wanted me to say hi to all of them as a favour.”

“Other Bobs? There’s just me as far as I know.”  Bob sighed from the top of the elephant, “If you don’t find anyone else named Bob don’t tell him though. I think Jason might have gotten a little confused.”

“Oh,” Will shook his head, “Thanks I guess.” 

Before Will could get far he was once again ambushed, this time by Hazel and Frank. “You’re Jason’s stand in right?” Frank sounded desperate, “Do you have the winter plans? We really have to start building things soon.” Hazel nodded along with him. 

“I, uh-” Will blinked, “Stand in?” Hazel nodded once more.

“Sorry, Nico snitched, for the love of the gods tell me you have them! Otherwise we’ll make it your responsibility and therefore your punishment if things do not go right, Will.” 

“Punishment?” Will started sweating.

“Just mediocre Roman stuff, whipping, wooden shoes, fines-” Hazel winked at him, “No worries, you’ll get out alive!”

“So, you have the plans?” Frank asked one last time.

“I will have them in uh— just have to grab them! See you all in a bit!” Will cursed as he ran off. He needed to fix these plans, soon.

Will locked himself up in Jason’s place and as he took a look around he was sure it was messier than the last time he saw it. Had someone else ransacked the place? If there had been more stuff to actually ransack it might have been more noticeable. Will walked to the desk, only to find a blue post-it with a message on it.

Sorry about the mess! See ya, merry xmas-Percy“Okay?” But worry about it Will could not. As he donned a pen, paper and stress headache he started working on a list, a list to save Jason’s reputation as Winter Organizer.

Hours later blood sweat and tears stained Will’s mind. He had finally finished the first draft and figured that it would be enough. Will stood up from Jason’s desk, shaking. He walked to the door, opened it—he only had to find Hazel and Frank and—

“Jason! Good job at making those plans.” A random camper, wearing a Christmas hat patted him on the shoulder, “You don’t look so good man, you deserve some rest!” It had started snowing, and Will slowly stepped out. There were lights strung everywhere- far off he could see a gigantic Christmas tree. Faintly he could hear carols being sung, and the rehearsal of the horrible nativity play. But he never did this— he… he just spent hours doing work for nothing? How—

“Hey, Will!” Percy suddenly spoke up from beside him, “What were you doing in Jason’s office?” He was wearing an ugly sweater, carrying presents, and overall still seemed stressed but managing.

“I was, uh.” Will sighed, “Christmas or something I don’t know.”

“Oh! I found the Christmas plans a while ago actually. Sorry to keep you looking, but I was in a hurry to save Christmas! If you see Klaus back at camp tell him it’s all in control, when the reindeers are back. And if not, we have the war unicorns as backup. Now I got to go— see ya!” As Percy scurried off he let out a clear ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’. 

Will just wanted to go home, back to camp. Back to his boyfriend. He didn’t even manage to change the nativity play to something good. He just changed his opinions about Camp Jupiter instead, this place fucking sucked. And as he ignored the texts coming in on his phone, sinking to his knees into the snow, he just hoped that Jason and Magnus were suffering as much as he was. The Le-Gou-Lash BashMagnusHey, Jason, just popping in to remind you to be careful! You’re not an einherjar, and if I’m getting Nico’s traumas right, you dying would permanently scar this kid. 

JasonI’ll try my best! I’m meeting Santa soon though MagnusWe have a Santa???